A Scarlet Letter
by Eleantris
Summary: Unbeknownst to Alex, Gene has a teenage daughter. But when she arrives at the station, demanding to see him, both their lives get turned upside down. Alex never expected that a troubled teenager would cause her to fall in love with her DCI. Galex! :D
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello everyone! So yup, here I am again, with a new Ashes story! And I'm really excited about this one. :D I've actually been writing it for a while, but have only just decided to start posting it. It's something a little different, not based around a crime plot this time, but it *is* Galex, of course. How could it not be? :P Just want to quickly say a thank you to TheFatalIllusion for reading the chapters I already have written through for me and for giving me encouragement to keep going! Anyway, I'll shut up now as I can be prone to ramble, and I'll let you read! I'm not sure when this is set, probably after series one but before series two, so in that gap between. Well, I hope it's okay, happy reading, and please remember to review at the end! :P _**

**_Disclaimer - I don't own Ashes to Ashes, any of its characters, places, themes, etc...Basically I own bugger all. :P _**

_**Chapter 1**_

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><p>It was an unusually quiet day in CID. No new bodies for the slab, no-one had gone missing and there were no big, high-profile robbery or drugs cases to solve. It seemed that like many of London's residents, the criminals and scum of the city were also enjoying the unnaturally warm weather outside. Unnaturally warm, at least, for April.<p>

"I'm sorry," Ray complained, fanning himself with a magazine, the contents of which Alex thought were best left unquestioned. "But it's the fourth of April, in bloody _England_; it shouldn't be this flamin' hot!"

Shaz nodded and murmured wearily in agreement, taking a long gulp of water before returning to her typewriter with a sigh. The atmosphere in CID was beyond stuffy, and every single officer was beginning to feel the heat; the air felt so thick that no-one could be bothered to move anywhere much and to top it all off, the air conditioning was broken, and it didn't look like anyone was coming to fix it anytime soon – something that had given Gene endless pleasure and prompted a ten minute tirade on the reliability of workmen 'poofters' and 'lazy good-fer-nothing layabouts'.

Feeling uncharacteristically lazy, Alex agreed with too and sighed, pushing away from her the report she'd been trying to read for the past half an hour. She slumped back in her chair and surveyed the rest of CID, fingers playing absentmindedly with a pen.

Alex had always been more of a winter person; she loved wrapping up warm in a coat, hat, scarf and gloves and walking through the rain or falling snow. With a sharp pang of homesickness, Alex remembered playing with Molly in the snow, laughing at her shrieks as they threw snowballs at each other and went sledging together... A searing pain spread through her chest as Alex was hit, not for the first time, by a desperate longing to be home, to see her little girl again. She let out another sigh.

"Are you sure we don't have any fans?" Ray asked, dropping the ineffective magazine back onto his desk and straining his neck to look round CID. "And when the hell are the Guv an' Chris getting back? We're bloody cooking like a pot roast in 'ere!"

"No, Ray," Alex told him with a short-tempered sigh, "We don't have any fans. And don't ask me to help you look for them again; we've already established that there aren't any. As for the Guv and Chris, I haven't a clue. How am I supposed to know where they are?" She only just managed to refrain from muttering something about GPS and tracking devices, both of which would be lost on him.

Her snappy tone did nothing to improve Ray's bad mood and he scowled at her before sighing again and reaching for his cigarettes and lighter. As he lit one up and held it to his lips, Alex looked at him in disbelief and shook her head.

"Oh, because that's really going to cool you down."

"Oh shut up and go get some fresh air fer a bit if all yer going t' do is get yer knickers in a twist. S'not like we're doing anything useful 'ere," Ray snapped back at her, taking a deep drag on his cigarette before blowing a long tunnel of smoke out from between his lips. He quickly pulled a face, then stubbed it out as soon as Alex wasn't looking. She was right, that just made him feel hotter and the air stuffier.

"You know what? I might just do that," Alex said, quickly pushing her chair back and standing up. She smoothed down her skirt – shorter than usual due to the warm weather – and turned to head for the doors. "Anything to get away from grumpy guts," she muttered to herself as she slipped out, relishing in the ever so slightly cooler air in the corridor outside of CID.

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><p>"Ma'am...Ma'am!" Viv exclaimed, sounding almost relieved as he moved round from his side of the desk to approach her. "Thank God you're here. Can you please tell this..." he glanced behind him indecisively, "Young lady, that she can't just waltz into a police station and start demanding to talk to people without giving a reason why."<p>

Her curiosity piqued, Alex frowned slightly and stepped further round the corner until the 'young lady' Viv was referring to came into view. She was stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, exerting teenage attitude as she scowled at both Alex and Viv, her lips set in a tight, displeased pout that Alex vaguely recognised.

Platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail, exposing darker roots, and Alex couldn't tell what colour the girl's eyes were, but they were surrounded by a thick black circle of eyeliner and too much mascara, clumped on her eyelashes. It wasn't too hard to tell that she was wearing thick foundation, her lips tinted with what Alex guessed was once bright pink lipstick, but had now faded slightly and gone a little flaky at the edges of her lips. For a moment, Alex just met the teenager's challenging gaze and appraised the short denim skirt, fishnet tights, ankle pixie boots, and faded leather jacket that she wearing, before she composed herself and stepped further towards the girl.

"Hello, I'm DI Alex Drake," she said, giving the teenager a small smile as Viv saw that she was more than capable of handling the situation and returned to his desk, disappearing to file some reports. "What's your name?"

After a few seconds during which she just tried to stare Alex down, the teenage girl finally replied, "Don't matter what my name is." Her eyes then flickered around the room, to the billboard filled with notices and 'MISSING' posters, to the desk, to the doors, and finally back to Alex again. She seemed restless, on edge, as though she wasn't sure what to do or say next. "I'm looking fer DCI Hunt."

The surprise was evident on Alex's face before she could suppress it; as soon as the girl had said more than a few words, the Mancunian accent was obvious, and Alex wondered how on earth she knew Gene. "DCI Hunt?" Alex asked, though she knew she hadn't heard incorrectly. "I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind my asking, but why do you need to see him? I can't just bring you through to CID without you having a reason, you see. Besides, he's not here at the moment, though he should be back soon."

The surly teenager paused for a moment and then said, frowning a little at her, "Did yer say _DI_ Alex Drake?"

"Yes, I, um, yes I did, DI Alex Drake," Alex said, a little taken aback by the sudden change of subject. "Why?"

She shrugged, the disgruntled pout once again settling on her lips – the pout set a bell ringing in Alex's head, but she wasn't sure what exactly it reminded her of. "Just never met a female DI before, that's all. S'a bit weird...Knew a female DC once, but that's it. Now can I see DCI Hunt?"

Still feeling completely perplexed at the situation and confused by the moody teenager in front of her, who was dressed in an outfit she would have never in a million years let Molly out of the house in, Alex said again, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to tell me why you need to see DCI Hunt; it's against regulations to just bring you through to-"

"I don't give a fuck about regulations!" The girl shouted at her suddenly, her tone vicious and demanding as she exploded. "I want t' see DCI Hunt now, and I don't care 'ow many rules yer break. No-one gives a fuck anyway, I doubt our little darkie friend is going t' be bothered! What's 'e gonna do t' me, anyway?" She gestured briefly towards the still deserted desk, and Alex's eyes widened in shock.

"Excuse me, but I am _not_ going to tolerate that sort of language or behaviour," Alex told her sternly, her own hands going to her hips to mirror the teenager's stance as she went into 'discipline mode'. "Now I want to know your name, where you've come from and who is meant to be responsible for you. How old are you, anyway?" Quickly taking in her appearance again, Alex guessed that despite the makeup, dyed hair and short skirt, the girl in front of her was no more than sixteen years old, and certainly not of age.

"Fuckin' hell, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?" the girl retorted, laughing spitefully at Alex. "You've got t' be taking the piss with all this posh questions bollocks; who did you sleep with t' make DI?"

Alex's eyes widened further, her mouth opening in protest, but the difficult teenage girl before her cut in before she could say anything.

"Seriously though, are you going to cut the crap, or am I going t' have to go find DCI Hunt myself?"

"That won't be necessary, seeing as I'm 'ere," a loud voice came from behind them both, and Alex turned to see Gene making his way over to them, his eyes fixed on the teenage girl she had been arguing with for the past ten minutes or so. There was a look on his face that she couldn't quite decipher – confusion, fear, shock, surprise, anger, sadness, puzzlement... It seemed to be a mixture of all of them put together.

"Question is," Gene said grimly, stopping beside Alex, his gaze still fixed intently on the mouthy teenager, "What the 'ell are _you_ doing 'ere?"

"Oh," the girl remarked, scowling up at him as her hands went to her hips again and she drew herself up taller, as though trying to match Gene's height, though she was only a few inches shorter than Alex. And then she added, voice laced with impertinent sarcasm, "Nice to see you again too, _Dad_."

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><p><strong><em>Dun, dun, dun! :P So that's the first chapter. I hope it was okay, and please let me know if you're interested in reading more of this story or not! Thank you for reading - reviews are, as always, very much appreciated and rewarded with cheap plonk, or cookies, depending on your preference. :D <em>**

**_X =D_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thank you all so much for the reviews, alerts and faves last chapter; I'm glad you all like the look of this story! No Galex quite yet, but it will be soon, I promise! Anyway, here's the next chapter; I hope you enjoy it and please keep the reviews coming, they really make my day!_**

**_X =D_**

**_Disclaimer - Ashes to Ashes doesn't belong to me, just Gene's daughter. :D_**

_**Chapter 2**_

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><p>"Nice to see you again too, <em>Dad<em>."

Alex was frozen in shock, wide eyes fixed on the teenage girl now locked in a staring contest with Gene, her challenging gaze boring into his stormy eyes. She couldn't believe it. _Dad_. The idea of Gene having children, of having a daughter, was almost incomprehensible to her, and it was certainly something that had never even occurred to her. Ray and Chris had never mentioned Gene's daughter, or his ex-wife for that matter. During her two years with them, she had gathered that it was a touchy subject, best left unspoken about. But what Alex really couldn't believe, was that _this_ was Gene's daughter. Mouthy, rude, skimpily dressed, ignorant and impolite... It was hard for Alex to get her head around. It wasn't so much that Gene wasn't most of those things himself, but he was authoritative by nature, he had a way of getting people to do the things he wanted them to. Alex would have thought that discipline a child would have been a walk in the park for Gene – hell, he managed to discipline Ray and Chris just fine.

Gene was just as shocked as Alex was. Why was she here, in London? At first, his mind flew to the worst case scenario – Caroline had died – but he quickly dismissed that. He would have been told, would have been considered, surely? She was his ex-wife, after all. But after that, after those first few initially horrified thoughts, Gene took a moment to take in what his daughter was wearing, to notice the makeup on her face and the platinum blonde hair, pulled scruffily back into a ponytail. What on earth had happened to her? It took a few moments for him to find his voice again.

"Scarlett," he said gruffly, his whole body still frozen in shock along with Alex's. "What on earth are yer doing 'ere?" He paused, quickly looking her up and down once again with a horrified look on his face. "And more t' the point, what the hell 'ave yer done t' yerself?"

The girl, Gene's daughter, Scarlett, scowled at him and carelessly flicked some dirt out from under her fingernails. "What do yer mean, what 'ave I done t' myself?" came her retort as she glanced down at herself quickly, seeing nothing wrong with her appearance. "And don't sound so delighted t' see me, Dad; anyone would think yer didn't want me." A manipulating, vicious look came into her eyes as she stepped closer to Gene, her head cocked on one side as they stood almost nose to nose, glaring at each other. "Oh wait, yeah, that's right, yer _didn't_ want me," she spat, face twisted in spite.

"Don't start that again, Scarlett," Gene said, and Alex was surprised by the weariness in his voice, the slight hint of regret that lingered in the depths of his eyes. "I never said I didn't want yer. Now are yer going t' tell me what yer doing 'ere, or do I 'ave t' ring yer mother and ask what the 'ell is going on?"

Scoffing at him, Scarlett scowled again and took a step back, regarding her Dad with what could only be described as a look of disgust. "Yer fuckin' hypocrite; nah, course yer never said you didn't want me, yer only fucked off a few months after I was born and told me Mam that 'yer couldn't do this anymore', before gettin' boozed up every night and fucking every fuckin' woman that fuckin' moved!" The teenager's face was enraged as she shouted at Gene, her tone almost feral as she snarled at him.

"Oh, an' yer never came t' see me when yer was supposed to, and t' top it all off, two years ago yer just come round after months of 'ardly seeing me and dropped the bombshell! 'Yeah, sorry, I'm going t' move t' London'." Scarlett threw a flippant, repulsed look towards Alex and then looked back at her Dad. "To get yer leg over '_er_, no doubt!"

"Right," Gene said loudly, only just managing to not start shouting himself as he caught the shocked, hurt look on Alex's face. He stepped forwards towards his daughter. "That's enough, Scarlett, you've said yer piece and 'aven't I heard it all before? Haven't I apologised and tried t' make it up t' yer? Now, tell me what yer doing 'ere, or I'll pack you off onto the next train back up t' Manchester myself. And while yer at it, yer can tell me what the 'ell happened to my daughter. Yer know the girl, who used t' have ginger 'air and played in the mud and got all 'er pretty dresses mucky?" He held his hand out in front him, indicating height, and Alex could have sworn there was pain in his eyes – the sort of pain that only a parent could know. "Yer know, she were so-high, sweet and innocent, didn't wear makeup or know any swear words."

There was silence for a moment, before Scarlett shook her head at him in disbelief and said, her words laced with spite, "She grew up, and she learnt that 'er Daddy was a first class prick and a cheating bastard t' round it off. I'm fifteen, '_Daddy_', not twelve anymore."

"Yeah, an' yer think you're twenty-five by the looks of it," Gene told her, looking once again at the fishnet tights. He couldn't believe it. Pushing away the sadness and regret that was building up inside him, Gene drew himself up taller, exerting authority as he tried to keep his voice level. "I'm not going t' ask yer again, Scarlett, what are yer doing 'ere?"

Silence momentarily fell again, in which Alex took a deep breath, still trying to absorb the situation, her mind still reeling in shock at the revelation that Gene had a daughter, and that this _girl_, with her short skirt, fishnet tights and mouthy attitude, was that daughter. Eventually, Scarlett let out a huffy sigh, the permanent scowl still etched on her face. "Me Mam kicked me out, didn't she? Said she couldn't cope wi' me anymore and told me t' come down 'ere and live with you fer a bit." She sighed again, making it clear that she was about as happy with the arrangement as Gene was, and pulled a crumpled up envelope out from the pocket of her leather jacket. "Here, she wrote yer a note or letter or whatever." She thrust the envelope towards him.

Staring at her, Gene didn't say anything for a few moments as he tried to let her words sink in. Live with him. Caroline had sent her to live with _him_. What the hell did the woman think she was doing? Had she completely lost her marbles? Scarlett couldn't live with him, no way. He was a DCI, for crying out loud, he had a job to do, he didn't have time to discipline her and cook for her and make sure she got to school. Hell, he didn't even know how to enrol a teenager into school. In fact, Gene didn't even know where the nearest high school was. Still frowning and not knowing what to make of the situation, Gene took the creased envelope from her and asked, "Where are yer bags then?"

"Over there," Scarlett replied moodily, sounding like she was preparing to resign herself to a fate worse than death. She gestured to a few small black bags by the seats at the edge of the room.

Gene looked between her and the bags indecisively for a few seconds before turning his head to look at Alex, who managed to shake herself back into reality. "Take Scarlett to the kitchen area in CID, will yer, Bols? Make 'er a cup of tea or whatever she wants. I'll just be a couple of minutes." His voice was strained and although Alex couldn't think of anything she wanted to do less, she knew that now was no time to start an argument with him. She nodded, gave Gene a small smile that didn't quite meet her eyes then told the teenage girl to follow her.

"Huh, not locking me up in a cell then," Scarlett muttered as she followed Alex down the corridor towards CID.

Gene was left standing in the entrance of the station, holding a letter from his ex-wife and staring at two small black bags that apparently contained all of his daughter's possessions. Swallowing, Gene glanced back down at the envelope in his hands and letting out a long, weary sigh, he sank down into one of the nearby seats, opened it, and began to read.

The first time he read it through, the words didn't sink in; his eyes just skimmed over them as they blurred together into one mass of ink. His mind was still reeling, his body in complete shock at the events of the past twenty or so minutes. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what to say... What was he expected to do, anyway? Welcome her with open arms, quit his job and spend the next two years looking after, disciplining and caring for her? Hell, she didn't even want to be here, let alone spend any time with him. For a moment, Gene remembered the daughter he had thought he had – the little girl with light ginger hair who used to make mud pies, get her dresses mucky in the process, then get grumpy when he refused point blank to eat them. He had never, not in a million years, thought that Scarlett would one day turn up in London, looking like a common prostitute and talking to him in much the same way as the scum he arrested on a daily basis did. For the first time in a very long time, Gene Hunt was at a complete loss as to what to do.

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><p>An awkward silence hung over CID's kitchenette area as Alex stirred four sugars into a mug of tea and tentatively placed it down in front of the surly teenager, carefully watching her body language all the while. The tense silence lingered for a few more minutes as Scarlett took a sip of the tea, swallowed it down without complaining and then returned to just sitting there, her gaze fixed firmly on her own knees as she slouched in the chair.<p>

Alex stared at her for a bit, still in a state of shock and confusion. "Would you like some biscuits?" she asked suddenly, trying desperately to shatter the silence that was ringing in both their ears. She quickly reached for the biscuit tin, freshly stocked with pink wafers and chocolate digestives and placed it on the table in front of Scarlett. For a moment she didn't move, just stared at the biscuits and then, she looked up at Alex and asked, "Do yer 'ave any Garibaldis?"

For some reason, this brought a smile to Alex's face. She wasn't sure why, but maybe it was because the question proved, that despite how much Scarlett seemed to despise Gene, and despite the rude, careless attitude, she was still very much her father's daughter. The smile however only earned her a scowl from Scarlett, but Alex was not to be deterred. Turning around, she opened a top cupboard and stood on her tiptoes, scrabbling around at the back of the shelf for Gene's secret 'stash' as she called it, of Garibaldi biscuits. "Aha," she said softly as her hand collided with the packet.

"Here you go." She turned back around and handed the packet to Scarlett. Silence invaded once again, and Alex found herself awkwardly drumming her fingers on the countertop. "Your Dad keeps the packet up there so that no-one else eats them. God forbid anyone eat his Garibaldis." Alex chuckled a little, but it came out as forced and a little bit nervous. She almost expected the teenager to scowl and start shouting at her again at any moment.

However, she didn't. Instead, Scarlett just glanced up at Alex with an expression on her face that only a teenager could be capable of; one that clearly said 'What the fuck are you going on about? Shut up.' and then turned back to her tea and Garibaldi biscuits, choosing to ignore her. Gathering that this was all the reaction Alex was going to get from her, she let out a small sigh and made herself a cup of tea too, then stood there in silence, leant back against the counter. She watched Gene's daughter carefully whilst her mind raced, trying to figure it all out. Whatever Scarlett's arrival meant for Gene, or them, or the rest of CID, she didn't know, but Alex was sure that this was only the beginning.

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><p><strong><em>Hope that was okay, thank you all for reading! Next chapter - Alex thinks things over, and Gene shows his vulnerable side... because we all love Gene's vulnerable side. :P Please review - they never fail to put a smile on my face, and constructive criticism is always more than welcome!<em>**

**_X =D_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hello again! Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews; I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And without further ado, here's chapter three... :D_**

**_X =D_**

**_Disclaimer - I don't own Ashes to Ashes - never have, never will. _**

_**Chapter 3**_

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><p>Alex didn't mind the awkward silence as much as she had at first. It gave her time to think, at least. Because really, no matter how she looked at it, things weren't going to stay the same now. From every angle, from every possible viewpoint, Scarlett's arrival meant a turning point, big changes, a shift in everything. But for who? For Gene, obviously, that much was indisputable. Whereas before, Gene had sat with them all in Luigi's nearly every night, drinking into the small hours and sometimes even crashing on her sofa, if Scarlett was indeed meant to stay for the long-term, he couldn't do that anymore. All of a sudden, Gene had a responsibility that was more important than his job, than the rest of them. More important than her. And that, Alex found, was where her thoughts got stuck.<p>

She kept coming back around to the same question, over and over again. What did this mean for _them_? For her and Gene? And each time she asked herself that same question, Alex shook her head and told herself she was being ridiculous. What did she mean, her and Gene? There was no 'her and Gene'... she hadn't even thought about the idea of them for a long, long time. A few months ago, it had been all she had been able to think about. And they'd come close too, one too many times to count, but all it had ever ended in was him telling her she was drunk and walking away, leaving her to collapse into bed, intoxicated and alone. Now, as well as work colleagues, she and Gene were nothing more than friends. Of course, they still argued like cat and dog, still shouted in each other's faces and often ended up nose to nose, ego to ego, staring each other down, fuming over some issue or another. The harmless flirtation was still there, too – it was something Alex was sure would never go away and secretly, subconsciously, she never wanted it to.

However, the burning attraction that had been there when she first arrived, the stolen glances, the suggestive comments and accidental touches, they had all but disappeared. Sometimes, Alex wondered if she missed that level of their relationship and even, occasionally, in the dead of night when she was blind drunk and alone in her bed again, she wondered, just wondered, if she wasn't still attracted to him. But then she'd wake up in the morning, sober and still alone, and realise it was better that way, and of course she wasn't attracted to Gene Hunt anymore, if she even had been in the first place. Because that was ridiculous. He was a construct, this whole world wasn't real. What was real was 2008, and mobile phones and laptops and Molly. Her daughter, Molly. Most mornings, she found herself saying that there was nothing to think about, because there was no-one to think about. Gene wasn't real, and therefore she could not be attracted to him. He was a colleague and a friend, for as long as she was stuck in this imaginary, coma-induced world.

But then, Alex realised, as she found herself staring at Scarlett again, still puzzled by the makeup on her face and the scruffy, platinum blonde ponytail, if this world wasn't real, and if Gene and, now, his daughter, if they weren't real, then... Well, why was she worrying about what it meant for them at all? If it wasn't real, it wasn't a problem. Simple as that.

At least, that's what Alex tried to tell herself. But looking at Scarlett again, and remembering the helpless, shocked and almost terrified look in Gene's eyes when he had asked her to take her to the kitchenette, Alex knew that this was far from simple. Her life with Gene and the others in the 80s had never been simple to begin with, but she was sure that things were only about to get a whole lot more complicated... But whether that was on a professional level, or personal level, Alex had no idea.

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><p>"Bolls?"<p>

Gene's voice shook Alex from her deep musings, and her head snapped up to see Gene standing gingerly in the doorway. Now that was a new one, she thought, Gene Hunt doing anything _gingerly_.

"Can I talk to yer for a minute?" he asked, his voice quiet, though both of them knew Scarlett could hear every word he was saying, and she saw fit to point this out to them.

"I don't know why yer whispering," she said, looking up from her almost empty mug and the packet of Garibaldis. "I'm right 'ere, and I'm not deaf."

Gene turned his head, almost reluctantly, to look at her. "Just sit 'ere like a good girl, Scarlett, and wait till I get back," he said, his voice harsh and bordering on sarcastic. "I need to talk to DI Drake for a minute."

Looking between the two of them with disgust in her eyes, Scarlett scowled again and returned to the magazine article she was skim-reading. "Take 'er for a quickie in the bog, more like," she muttered under her breath, though Gene caught what she said and took an angered step forwards, opening his mouth to tell her off.

"Leave it, Gene." Alex placed a calming hand on his arm, glanced at Scarlett who glared back at her, then turned her head back again to meet his gaze. "She doesn't mean it. Come on."

Still incredibly tense, Gene turned and strode away into his office, leaving the door open for Alex to follow behind him. With one last worried glance at his daughter, Alex hurried after him and slipped into the office, closing the door behind her. Gene had already closed the blinds.

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><p>Turning around, Alex was surprised to see Gene leant back against what was usually her side of the desk, rather than sat in his chair. There was a grim expression on his face, the look in his eyes unreadable as he looked up to meet her gaze. In the space of one morning, he seemed to have lost all his confidence, the powerful Manc Lion persona had slipped away from him without warning and now, Alex hardly recognised the man before her. His shoulders sloped down a little, his body even slumped over slightly and he still clutched the now opened envelope in his hand. He looked tired and still in shock. But most puzzling of all, he looked <em>scared<em>. More scared than Alex had ever seen him look before, despite the dangers they'd faced and situations they'd been in. She had no idea what exactly the history was between Gene, his ex-wife and his daughter, but she could bet all her savings that it wasn't pleasant, for whatever reasons.

Gene's next words shocked her to the core. "Tell me what to do."

His tone was weary, words heavy with desperation as he looked at her, searching for a solution he knew she didn't have. Alex was so surprised, so shocked that he was turning to her for help, was relying on her fully to give him some sort of magical solution, that she was rendered speechless. She had no idea what to say, because she had no idea what to do. She was even more in the dark than he was, for heavens' sakes.

"Come on, yer always the one with the answers, Bolly. Tell me what t' do."

The desperation was evident in his eyes now, fear lingering behind his pupils and it almost broke Alex's heart to see him look so helpless, so lost. He shouldn't be like this. For one mad moment, she wanted nothing more than to pull him into a tight hug, to tell him that everything was okay and that she knew what to do. But she didn't, she couldn't. "I...I don't know, Gene, I..."

"Well I don't bloody know either!" He exploded, shouting at her, his body drawn up to full height again as Alex took an automatic step backwards. She immediately felt foolish for allowing him to scare her, and moved forwards again.

"You're miss flamin' wonder-woman; always got a solution to everything, so give me one now! Tell me what the fuck I'm supposed t' do with a daughter I hardly know and certainly doesn't want t' be 'ere. You're the one with the psycho-understanding shit and all the tactics an' strategies – tell me what t' do, Drake!"

There was silence for a few moments, the atmosphere thick and pregnant with unsaid words before Gene sighed and slumped back onto his desk again, defeated. He looked up at her morosely. "I'm sorry, Bols..." Almost as quickly as the anger had come, it slipped away. He sighed again, passing a tired hand over his face, rubbing at the slight stubble on his jaw from where he had neglected to shave that morning. He met her gaze again, and in that moment, Alex felt locked with him, felt as though he was clinging to her, acting like she was some sort of lifeline.

"I don't know anything about this parenting lark, Bolly... I remember 'er as this sweet little eight year old with a penchant fer bloody Disney. An' last time I saw 'er, she was a few weeks off thirteen years old, wondering why 'er Daddy wanted t' go live in London and why 'e wouldn't be there to cheer 'er on when she went bowling with her friends for 'er birthday party." There was regret in his eyes now, his expression heavy with guilt and remorse. He looked away from Alex, feeling almost ashamed of himself.

"I missed 'er thirteenth birthday, Bols... Tried to ring 'er every week after that, but she barely told me nothing... Didn't want t' talk to me much, and then a bit after that, she just started either hanging up on me straight away, or hurling abuse at me down the phone... Gave up ringing 'er after a few calls like that."

Her face saddened, Alex moved to lean back on the desk next to him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to rest over his, her thumb briefly rubbing over his knuckles. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Gene still wondering where on earth he went from there, and Alex not knowing where she stood in the situation. Her thumb kept moving over this knuckles though, almost absentmindedly, despite his usual aversion to physical contact.

"I'm a shit father, Alex," Gene murmured, the raw confession cutting through the silence that had invaded the room.

Alex turned her face to look at him, and when she saw the self-contempt and hatred on his face, something inside her twisted, her heart aching for him. "No you're not, Gene. You're not a shit father."

He shook his head, eyes flickering to look at her. "How can yer say that, Bolly? Look what's 'appened to 'er; look at the way she speaks t' me, the way she looks at me. As if I'm some sort of disgusting axe murderer or somethin'."

"Gene," Alex murmured, her hand squeezing his as she felt a lump rise in her throat, that something inside her twisting again. "You're _not_. A shit father would have turned her out on the street without even hearing her out. A shit father would have done anything to get her away from him. A shit father wouldn't have even tried to stay in touch after he moved away." She swallowed to wet her throat and squeezed his hand reassuringly again. "And more than that, trust me, because I've been there, and I'll tell you how I know you're not a shit father."

He looked sideways at her again, in that moment suddenly feeling a rush of gratitude towards her for trying to reassure him, for trying to make him feel better, when really, none of this was her problem. It shouldn't be up to her to help him deal with it. "Oh, what's that then, Bolly? Enlighten me."

She gave him a small, tentative smile, still rubbing her thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly. "I know you're not a shit father, Gene, because a shit father wouldn't _care_ that he was shit. He wouldn't give a flying fuck about whether his daughter was wearing a short skirt, or had dyed her hair, or was screaming abuse and looking at him as though she was disgusted. A shit father wouldn't care about _any_ of those things. But you do. You care." She squeezed his hand again, her fingers interlacing gently with his. "And that, Gene, is how I know."

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><p><strong><em>Ah, I do love writing Gene's vulnerable side. :D Hope you enjoyed reading, and reviews are very much appreciated! Next chapter involves Gene, Alex, a bath, and some pasta bake. :P <em>**

**_X =D_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thank you all so much for your reviews; I don't know what I'd do without you all. Okay, so I promised Gene, Alex, a bath, and pasta bake in this chapter... and I have delivered! Just maybe not in the way your dirty minds (yes, I'm looking at you, Jazzy) might be thinking... :P Enjoy!_**

**_X =D_**

**_Disclaimer - I don't own Ashes to Ashes._**

_**Chapter 4**_

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><p>The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of arrangements, change and activity. Gene, still in a state of half-shock, half-panic had talked to the Super and grudgingly taken two weeks leave, effective immediately. After CID had been hurriedly informed of the situation, Gene and Scarlett left, leaving Alex in charge as acting DCI for the next two weeks. And she had to admit, amongst the chaos, shock and confusion, she was looking forward to the chance to prove herself as an actual leader, rather than just as a bossy know-it-all, with a head full of brains and the common sense of a grain weevil, as Gene so often put it.<p>

It seemed to most of CID that their DCI was taking his daughter's sudden arrival well – quite calmly and with confidence, in fact, almost as if he had been expecting it. But Alex, knowing and observing more than any of them did, knew this wasn't the case. Watching him as he went through the motions – taking leave, telling CID, driving Scarlett home – Alex could see that beneath the confident, calm and ever-witty exterior, Gene Hunt was bricking it. Just occasionally, whenever their eyes met for a brief second, she had seen the look of trepidation and fear in the depths of his gaze. He was swimming way out of his depth, thrown in at the deep end; he knew it, she knew it. But neither of them said it out loud.

Alex had offered to drop in on him later that evening but he'd refused, telling her that he 'didn't need bloody babysitting' by his junior officer. His words had been confident, self-assured, but his expression wasn't. Giving him a small smile, Alex had squeezed his hand again and told him, with the same tone of forced confidence, that he'd be fine, it was all fine. Somehow, as she glanced at Scarlett, Alex hadn't quite believed in her own words.

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><p>Steam rose up from the scented bathwater as Alex closed her eyes, leant back against the walls of the tub and let out a long sigh of relief. She held a glass of red wine in her hand. As she relaxed, allowing the hot water to gently soothe her muscles, Alex sipped her wine and allowed her mind to wander to the events of that day. Scarlett's arrival, along with her appearance and attitude, had been unexpected. But if she was being honest, the thing that had shocked Alex the most, what had caught her completely off guard, was Gene's reaction to it all.<p>

She knew how to handle Gene as he usually was – loud, arrogant, proud, insulting and generally a bit of a brute. Alex had learnt during her nine months there exactly how to respond to Gene's macho act, she always knew just what to say to him. Hell, drunk-Gene, she even knew just how to deal with that.

However, today, Alex had seen a completely different side to him – one that for some reason, as she soaked in the bath, pondering it all over, brought a small, bittersweet smile to her lips. He had been shocked, completely surprised and at a loss for what to do when he saw his daughter. And then, Alex had seen the horror in his face as he took in her appearance, had been witness to the fear, regret and guilt that had entered his eyes, tinting them with sadness.

And later, in his office, Alex could have sworn she had been talking to a different man entirely. Because the Manc Lion didn't do vulnerable, did he? And he didn't do trepidation, sentimentality, self-loathing or low self-esteem either, but Alex had seen all those things, and more, creep across his face and linger in the depths of his stormy eyes that day.

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><p>Alex had just finished rinsing the conditioner out from her hair when the phone rang.<p>

"Shit." Turning the water off, Alex hurriedly got out of the bath and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself, almost knocking over her now empty wine glass in the process. She reached the phone just in time.

"Hello?" she said, breathless as she tried to pull the towel tighter around herself.

"Hi, Bols...it's me."

"Gene. Sorry, I was just in the bath. Is everything okay?"

A dark chuckle came down the phone. "You know yer really shouldn't tell me stuff like that, Bolly, yer daft tart."

At his words, a blush spread across Alex's cheeks and she thanked God that Gene couldn't see her. "Gene, drag your mind out of the gutter. I'm guessing you didn't ring just to hear my voice. What's wrong, is Scarlett okay?"

There was a pause, a hesitant sigh, and then, "...Depends what yer mean by 'okay', Bols."

Alex frowned slightly and shifted the phone from her left ear to her right. "Why, what has she done?"

"Nothing, that's my point. Just shut 'erself in the spare room, well, 'er room now, I suppose. Won't come out, won't speak t' me, refuses to 'ave any tea..." There was a long, pregnant pause before Gene sighed again and his voice took on a weary, almost defeated tone. "I told yer I'm no good at this parenting lark, Bols. I don't 'ave a clue what the 'ell I'm doing, or what I'm supposed to say to 'er, or..."

Alex glanced over at the clock. It was half past eight. "Right," she said to Gene decisively. "Give me fifteen minutes, I'll be right over."

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><p>Exactly quarter of an hour later and Alex found herself knocking on Gene's door, looking up at the house before her. She had only ever visited the Gene Genie's humble abode once, and hadn't really had time to glimpse much of the place. It was nothing fancy or impressive – just a neat, whitewashed end-of-terrace house, with steps leading up to the front door and large, Georgian windows.<p>

Gene soon came to the door. "Bloody hell, that was quick," he remarked, stepping back to let her in as he glanced out at the night sky, the street illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlamps. His gaze quickly returned to Alex once she was inside though, and what he saw almost made his heart jump.

Her hair was only semi-dry, the curls in disarray around her face, free of makeup. Before leaving the flat she had quickly thrown on leggings, an oversized grey jumper and some black ankle boots. She looked so... domestic. Gene was sure he'd never seen her look so relaxed, so natural. He near on had a heart attack most days when she waltzed into his office in her skin-tight jeans, tight skirts and low-cut or see-through blouses, but this... This was gorgeous in a different way. A soft, natural way.

"So are you going to offer me a drink or just stand there staring at me?" Alex asked, trying to break the awkward silence and distract from the slight blush his intense gaze had brought to her face. He was probably looking at her in horror at the sight of her bare face – she had meant to slick some mascara or something on before she left, but in her haste, had forgotten.

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><p>After a long silence, in which Alex had sipped at a glass of wine and leant back against the kitchen counter, she sighed and put down her glass. "Come on then, get to the point. What am I really here for, Gene? Because I'm pretty sure it's not to just watch me drinking wine – you can do that in Luigi's."<p>

Her voice shook Gene out of his musings, and he looked up at her, suddenly struck by the alarming domesticity of the image. He was even more shocked by the fact that he found himself liking what he saw. Never did Gene think the day would come when Alex Drake would be stood in his kitchen with wet hair, wearing a baggy jumper and no makeup, drinking his wine. And, he thought to himself, it was an image he liked a bit more than he really should. Sighing, he put down his beer bottle.

"I don't know what t' do, Bols... I'm worried about 'er, about what's she done to herself. She looks like a common prostitute for 'eaven's sakes and whilst I don't exactly expect 'er to adore me, I'm worried that she hates me so much, she won't even accept food from me. She can't just sit there an' starve herself t' death, Bolly."

Alex sighed again and gave him a small, sympathetic smile, crossing over the small kitchen to lean on the counter next to him. "And...?" She let out a small laugh, but it sounded out of place in the circumstances. "Go on, say it."

"I need yer help, Bols," Gene grumbled, looking at her with a mixture of disdain and amusement in his eyes. "Need yer psycho-bollocks on this one, I think... Can't yer just go up and, I don't know, talk to 'er?"

Alex thought for a moment, absentmindedly chewing on her bottom lip before glancing sideways up at Gene and sighing. "I can try, Gene, but I'm no miracle worker, you know... Psychology doesn't solve everything."

"Oh, and there I was thinking it did!" he exclaimed, trying to inject some humour into the atmosphere and only half-succeeding.

"Shut up," she retorted, playfully slapping his arm and reaching for her wine glass, draining the rest of it. "Where's her tea then? How about I try take that up, and then I'll have a go at talking to her."

Gene gave her a grateful smile and picked up the oven gloves, moving towards the oven. Grinning, Alex let out a small giggle as he removed a pasta bake from it, steam rising from the melted cheese topping. "Oh, look at you, Gene Hunt, domestic goddess," she said as he placed it down and took out a plate. "Didn't even know you could cook."

He shot her a dark look. "I'm not totally useless, Bolly, can manage simple stuff. Been keeping this warm in case she came down..."

"Right, well I'll take a plate up to her like I said. Dish it up then," she told him, suppressing laughter again as Gene expertly cut a square of the pasta bake and transferred it to a plate. The scent of tomato and melted cheese wafted over to her. "Wow, that actually smells really good."

"Bols, shut up and get yer arse upstairs. Always the tone of surprise with you." He shoved the plate towards her, but his expression was well-meaning.

Giving him a brief smile, Alex took the plate and turned to head for the stairs.

"Oh, and Bols?"

She turned, looking over her shoulder at him. "Yes, Mrs Doubtfire?"

He ignored the jibe, his face serious once more. "Thanks, for doing this... I appreciate it. Yer didn't have t' come."

Her face softened, the teasing look gone from her eyes as she gave him a soft smile. "It's no problem, Gene," she told him sincerely, before turning back to the stairs and heading up them, biting her lip as she worked out how to persuade Scarlett to eat something, and open up a little bit more. Because beneath the harsh exterior and brash attitude, Alex knew that Scarlett was just another teenage girl that felt unwanted, alone and rejected – a scarlet letter in society. It was just going to take a while to make her realise that it didn't have to be that way, not if she didn't want it to be – it was in her hands, and this move down to London could be a good thing, if she wanted it to be.

Alex took a deep breath as she approached the door to the second bedroom; it sounded easy when she thought about it like that, but she knew this was going to be far from it. The next few weeks and months were going to be a rollercoaster for both Gene and his daughter...But secretly, Alex felt glad, almost honoured, that Gene had let her in enough to allow her to be part of that rollercoaster ride.

Just as friends, of course. Very good friends, nothing more. And with that thought in mind, Alex took another deep breath and knocked on the bedroom door.

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><p><strong><em>Ooh, slightly evil cliffhanger there - sorry about that! But there is more to come soon. Thank you very much for reading, and please do review - reviews make my day, my week, my month! :P <em>**

**_X =D_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Wow, thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! I don't know what I'd do without you all. Here's the next chapter anyway, I hope you enjoy it! _**

**_X =D_**

**_Disclaimer - Ashes to Ashes isn't mine, but Scarlett is. :D_**

_**Chapter 5**_

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><p>The room was in semi-darkness when Alex entered, carrying the steaming plate of pasta and cutlery in her hands. The curtains hadn't been drawn, leaving the small back garden and cloudy night sky visible through the window. The room, Alex had to admit, wasn't anything to write home about. The walls were light blue and the carpet an off-white colour; the single bed, on which Scarlett was sat, was pushed against the far wall, a wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, and a chest of drawers beneath the window.<p>

The teenager was hunched over something Alex couldn't see in the dim light, so she put the pasta down on the small bedside table before going to switch on the light. It was only when the room was thrown into sharp relief that Scarlett looked up, blinking in the bright light but still managing to scowl at Alex. She said nothing, only gave the plate of pasta beside her a disinterested glance before returning to what she'd been doing.

Alex could now see the sketchbook that was propped up against her knees and she watched silently for a few moments as Scarlett continued with what she was doing, the biro in her hand leaving bold, black strokes on the paper. It was all too obvious to Alex what she was trying to do; she was resolutely ignoring her, in the hope that she'd get bored and go away. Well, Alex thought grimly, she wasn't giving up that easily.

Using a technique she had learnt on an adolescent management course in 2006, Alex decided to remain silent until Scarlett was driven to engaging with her. It was a trick usually used to encourage teenage offenders or witnesses to unwittingly give something away – stay silent, but refuse to leave, and their curiosity, conscience or attitude would eventually get the better of them, resulting in them saying _something_, meaning they would have started the conversation.

So wordlessly, Alex moved to draw the curtains, shutting out the night. She picked Scarlett's discarded leather jacket up off the floor and hung it on the back of the door, closed one of the wardrobe doors that had been left open, and she had just turned to shut the top drawer in the chest of drawers properly when Scarlett gave in.

"Are you going t' piss off at some point, or what?"

Turning around to face her, Alex smiled a little and leant back casually against the chest of drawers – not too close, but not too far away. "Not until you've eaten something, I'm not." She nodded towards the plate of pasta, but Scarlett continued to ignore it.

The teenage girl was looking intently at Alex, the pen in her hand stilling as she scrutinised her. "Yer turn up here with wet hair, baggy clothes and no makeup on... Guess 'e isn't shagging yer then."

The flicker of a frown crossed Alex's face before she stopped and replaced it with a neutral smile; Scarlett was what would be labelled in 2008 as a 'troubled teen' – she could not, and would not let her words get to her. "Scarlett, I don't know what impression you've got of me and your Dad, but we work together. We're colleagues, and friends. Nothing more."

Scarlett snorted and gave her a scathing look. "Calm down," she said, though Alex didn't see how she wasn't being calm. "I believe yer...just."

"You do?" Alex was mildly surprised. "Well good, I'm glad we've cleared that one up. Now are you going to eat some of that, or am I staying here a bit longer?"

Glancing quickly at the food beside her, Scarlett scowled as though it personally had done something to offend her. She looked back up at Alex. "I didn't think yer were shagging him. You're way too posh fer 'im... Too posh generally." With a disinterested, uncaring look on her face, she returned her gaze to the sketchbook in her lap.

Trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere and feeling like she was getting somewhere, Alex chuckled a little and stepped forwards from the chest of drawers. "Your Dad often says the same thing; he tells me constantly to move my middle class, over-educated arse out of his way and to stop speaking like there's a plum in my 'gob'."

At this, Scarlett snorted again, and Alex guessed that it was the closest thing to laughter she was going to get out of her at this stage. Feeling considerably more comfortable than she had when she first came in, Alex moved to carefully perch right on the end of the bed, taking an interest in what Scarlett was drawing. "Well if you're not going to eat anything, you might as well tell me what it is you're doing that's so much more important."

In response to her friendly tone, however, Scarlett quickly withdrew again, flashing cold once more. Scowling spitefully at Alex, she hurriedly shoved her sketchbook under the duvet beside her. "None of your business. I meant it, yer know. Piss off."

Letting out a resigned sigh, Alex shrugged and got up again, preparing to play her final card. Bristling a little, she moved purposefully over to the bedside table, feeling Scarlett's glare boring into her as she picked up the pasta and fork. She turned to look at Scarlett, her determined gaze colliding with the teenager's challenging one. "Am I really going to have to spoon feed you like a baby, Scarlett, or are you going to start acting your age and eat your dinner? It's really not difficult; you just put some pasta on the fork like this..." Alex speared a piece of pasta with the fork and held it up, almost patronisingly, so that Scarlett could see. "And eat it."

"You're a stuck up bitch," Scarlett spat, somehow managing to glare and scowl at her both at the same time. "Who the fuck do yer think y'are, waltzing in 'ere and trying to shove food down my throat? Yer know what? I think I 'ate yer even more than my Dad." She shot her a scathing look before directing her angry gaze elsewhere. "Fuck off."

Alex sighed again, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She wanted to tell her that she was just as stubborn as her father, but somehow, she didn't think that would go down well. "Look, Scarlett, I know you don't like your Dad much, and I'm sure you mean it when you say you like me even less, but really, I don't care whether you like me or not. That's not what I'm here for. I'm here to make sure you're okay, and to get you to eat something, so that your Dad doesn't have to add anorexic teenager to his list of worries, and so I don't either for that matter." She held the plate out further towards her. "Come on, if you take this and eat some, I'll 'fuck off', as you put it."

Scarlett's head whipped around and she eyed the no longer steaming pasta with mistrust, but sighed and took it regardless. "Fine." She angrily stabbed some pasta with the fork and shoved it into her mouth, chewing furiously before swallowing it down. "There, 'appy?" Her glare flickered up to look at Alex. "Go on then, I'm eating it. Fuck off."

Choosing not to rise to or reprimand her for her language just this once, Alex suppressed another sigh and smiled sweetly, radiating friendliness and well-meaning. "I am, don't worry. It's lovely to meet you, Scarlett, by the way."

"Whatever," she muttered, not giving Alex another glance as she stabbed some more pasta and shoved it in her mouth, chewing with a little less force this time.

.

Alex found Gene still stood in the kitchen, swigging beer out of the bottle as he stared into the distance, contemplating God-knew-what. He turned as Alex entered the room. "You took yer time."

"Well, that's one lesson you're going to learn over the next few weeks, Gene," Alex told him with a small smile as she went to stand the few feet across from him and picked up her wine again. "Teenagers take time, especially difficult ones."

With a grim expression, Gene threw back another mouthful of lager and set down the empty bottle. Alex took the opportunity to drink in the sight of a relatively relaxed Gene Hunt, leant against his own kitchen counter, in socks and his work clothes, minus the jacket, tie and top few buttons of his shirt. "Tell me about it," he muttered, and then nodded towards Alex's empty wine glass. "You want a top up, Bols?"

Alex frowned, slightly affronted. "Don't you want to know whether I managed to get through to her, Gene? Whether I succeeded in persuading her to eat something or not?"

Chuckling, Gene stood up straight again and made his way over to her. Prising the glass from in between her fingers, he refilled it with more red wine and handed it back to her, his eyes darting to the cupboard behind her. "Got some crisps in there, Bolly. So move yer middle class, over-educated arse out of my way, and stop speaking like there's a plum in yer gob."

Alex caught the glint in his eyes and her own widened as she put down her wine glass and obligingly moved out of his way. "You were listening in?" she asked, surprised. "I didn't hear you coming up the stairs."

Gene shrugged as he opened the cupboard and began looking for something. "You're not the only one that can do sneaky, Bols." He found what he was looking for and shut the cupboard door, turning around again with a couple of bags of crisps in his hands. His face was serious again as he met Alex's gaze, handing her one of the packets. "She's my daughter, I wasn't about t' let you handle 'er without doing anything... I can't ring you every time she refuses to eat, or talk t' me or something, can I?" He let out a long sigh. "If she's going to be here for next however long, I'm going to 'ave to find some way to make it work, aren't I, Bolly?"

There was silence for a while as Gene opened his crisps and ate a few, trying to ignore the fact that Alex was staring at him intently. Eventually, he put down his packet and looked round at her again. "You do know it's rude to stare, don't yer, Bols?"

Seeming to snap out of her reverie, Alex smiled and took another mouthful of wine, quickly swallowing it down. "I was just thinking how proud I am of you, if that's not too patronising a thing to say," she said, stepping closer to him. "You really meant it, didn't you? About that being where you're needed stuff."

"Course I did, Bols," Gene replied, sounding slightly gruff as he met her gaze, quite suddenly aware of how close she was standing. He could faintly smell the light scent of her perfume, could see the light as it glanced off the few curls that were still wet, could almost reach out and touch the smooth, bare flesh of her slightly parted lips... "S'my job," he added, shifting backwards slightly to lean against the counter again, reluctantly putting some distance between the two of them as he glanced out of the kitchen window, looking past the reflection of the room's interior to the darkened garden beyond.

Alex smiled, pushing away the slight disappointment that had flared up in the pit of her stomach. For a moment then, their eyes had met, and she'd seen his gaze flicker down to her lips and back, and she had been so sure that he was about to... And then he'd moved back, and the moment had passed. Which was a good thing anyway. Because if he hadn't moved back, it would have just been awkward between them, because she hadn't really just been about to let him kiss her, had she?

No. Of course not. Because they worked together, because he was her DCI, because his troubled daughter was upstairs, not more than a few metres away. Because they were just friends. But then, a small, niggling voice said at the back of Alex's mind, Ray, Shaz and Chris were his friends too, but when it came down to it, it wasn't any of them he had called to his house late at night to talk to his daughter and persuade her to eat something, was it? He didn't ask either of them for help, or let them into his home and give them red wine or allow them to see him in just his socks, trousers and un-tucked shirt.

Shut up, she told it. Shut up.

"One question, Bols," Gene said, looking back towards her again. "Who the 'ell is Mrs Doubtfire?"

A wide smile spread across Alex's face as she picked her wine up again. "Doesn't matter, American rubbish."

"Ah, explains it then."

Alex hid a laugh behind closed lips as she watched him over the rim of her wine glass, smiling.

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><p><strong><em>A big thank you to theoofoof for pointing out that Mrs Doubtfire was after Gene's time! :D Thank you all for reading, and please leave your thoughts in a review! You know you want to... :P<em>**

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	6. Chapter 6

**_Here's chapter six! :D Thank you all so much for your reviews; I'm really glad you're enjoying this story. I hope the developments in this chapter are written okay - this is where you'll see why this is T-rated. I do usually have a slightly darker plot thread in my stories, but this one is of a bit of a different nature to usual, but hey, branching out is good, trying new things. :D Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you read. :P_**

**_X =D_**

**_Disclaimer - Ashes to Ashes isn't mine. _**

_**Chapter 6**_

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><p>"Ray, are you up to date with that paperwork yet?" Alex asked, looking up to see both Ray and Chris leant back in their chairs, feet on their desks, throwing a worn-out tennis ball to each other.<p>

"Err, not quite, Ma'am," Ray called back, not even turning to acknowledge her as he reached to catch a way off-target throw from Chris. "Twonk."

Letting out a long sigh, Alex got up and strode purposefully over to stand between their desks. She reached out and expertly caught the ball in one hand. Both Ray and Chris snapped to attention. "Then I hardly think playing catch is a productive use of your time, do you?"

Chris quickly took his feet down from the desk and hunched himself over his paperwork. Ray however groaned and looked at his senior officer with mild disdain. "Anyone ever told you that you should ligh'en up, Drake?"

Sarcastically, Alex cocked her head on one side. "Anyone ever told you that you should _grow_ up, Carling?" she retorted, before turning and walking back to her own desk. "Paperwork, now!" she called, not having to turn around to know he was scowling at her back and not form-filling.

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><p>Pulling a tiny plastic bag, piece of card and ten pound note from her pocket, Scarlett knelt down over the closed lid of the toilet seat and emptied the contents of the plastic bag onto it. She swallowed, wetting her throat, and used the card to scrape the white powder into a short, thin line, before rolling up the ten pound note and holding one end to the neat line, and the other to her nose. Closing her eyes with a small, relieved smile on her face, Scarlett sharply inhaled through her nose. Once, twice, and then, with a satisfied sigh, she stuffed the card, empty bag and ten pound note back into her pocket and quickly wiped the seat cover free of any evidence.<p>

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><p>"Hunt."<p>

Alex smiled at the gruff greeting and leant back in her chair whilst keeping a watchful eye on Ray and Chris. "Gene, it's me. I was just ringing to see how you were getting on. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Bols, far as I can tell. Jesus, I don't need yer checking up on me every half an hour."

"Huh, fine then," Alex huffed, rolling her eyes. "I won't bother next time. I just wanted to check you'd managed to get her to eat something this morning. Did she have some breakfast? Is she still refusing to talk to you?"

She heard him give a half-amused sigh. "What is this, twenty questions? Yeah, she's still not talking to me, Bolly, an' I don't blame 'er. Took her up some toast just the way she's always liked it this morning though; came back quarter of an hour later an' she'd eaten it, so...that's something, right?"

Smiling, Alex nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see her. "It's something, yes. Listen, do you need me to come round again later, perhaps talk to her for a bit?"

"No, it's alright, Bols. I'll manage, it's fine. Don't need yer worrying that pretty little head of yours about this, it'll all be fine. Now piss off back t' work, Bolly."

Torn between sighing, laughing, rolling her eyes and a combination of all three, Alex clicked her tongue and said, "Yes, Guv. And fine, so long as you're sure."

"Get back to work, Bols," Gene told her again by way of reply, a warning in his voice. "Don't worry about me and do yer job, or I'll report you for slacking and really give yer something t' worry about."

"Duly noted." And with that, she put the phone down.

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><p>It was only five o'clock when Alex and the team decided to leave CID and decamp to Luigi's. The criminals of London were still lying low, or at least, they weren't committing any serious crimes in the Fenchurch East area. This had left them to do nothing but catch up on old paperwork all day, in between dealing with the odd small-scale crime and, on Alex's orders, tidying CID, which of course, Ray had got no end of enjoyment out of.<p>

"Hi, Ma'am," Shaz said, sitting down next to Alex and handing her a large red wine. "Thought you looked like you needed this. How's the Guv, do y'know?"

Smiling gratefully at her, Alex took the wine and swallowed a large mouthful. "Okay, as far as I can tell. I rang him at lunchtime, and he said he was fine, so... I think this is just going to be a steep learning curve for him, Shaz."

Shaz laughed, nodding. "Definitely, Ma'am. I didn't even know he 'ad a daughter, did you? She looks like hard work, anyhow."

"No, I didn't know either," Alex said, her face and tone thoughtful as she stared down into her red wine. "I'd always thought, if he did have any kids, that they'd still be quite young... I forget that he lived in Manchester all his life before moving here," she mused, and looked up at Shaz. "Did Ray and Chris know about her?"

"Yeah, Chris said she was the reason the Guv ever married 'is wife in the first place. Apparently she got pregnant, so it was a bit of a shotgun wedding. Marriage was 'orrible, according to Chris. Always rowing, Guv slept in his office a lot, so I've heard."

"Hm... Well, it did sound to me as though he never saw Scarlett that much. When did he and his wife split up, do you know?"

Shaz bit her lip, shifting slightly in her seat. She wasn't entirely comfortable with gossiping about her boss but with a glance up at Alex, she knew she wasn't doing anything wrong. Her senior officer was just curious about Gene; she just wanted to know more about his background... Shaz knew, as well as anyone else did in CID that there was the potential for more than just friendship between the Guv and DI Drake. "Well, Chris told me that they separated about five years after they got married, so when his daughter was about five or six, but they only got properly divorced before 'e moved down here... Chris said his wife was always turning up at the station, shouting at 'im for not turning up to visit his daughter and stuff..." She smiled sadly, catching the awkward look on Alex's face. "Don't think the Guv's much of a family man, Ma'am," she said softly.

"No," Alex agreed, wetting her lips as she downed the rest of her wine in one large gulp and set the glass firmly back on the table. She added after a long pause, "I don't think he is."

Silence descended on them both for a few minutes, Alex pondering over what she had heard about Gene's marriage, and Shaz watching her DI carefully for any kind of reaction. Eventually, the young WPC said tentatively, "Still, he's trying now, Ma'am... That's got to count for something, hasn't it?"

Alex nodded, but she was still staring into the distance, a faraway look on her face. "Yes, I suppose so..." She suddenly turned to look at Shaz, and if she hadn't known better, the WPC could have sworn she saw a desperate need for reassurance in her senior officer's eyes. "He's a good man, Shaz, he's trying... It's not completely his fault that Scarlett turned out like, well...like that, is it?"

Thinking for a moment, Shaz looked down at her drink, and then back up at Alex. "No," she said carefully, biting her lip, "Not completely 'is fault, 'course not...But... I don't know, don't want to sound like I'm bad-mouthing the Guv, Ma'am, but... He could've been there for her a bit more, you know what I mean?" As soon as she'd said it, she instantly looked guilty. "Don't tell no-one I said that, will you, Ma'am? I just... I think Dad's are important. Doesn't do anyone any good to think they're not wanted, does it?"

"No," Alex agreed softly, giving Shaz a small, reassuring smile. "It doesn't."

At that moment, Luigi interrupted, leaning over the bar with the phone in his hands. "Signorina Drake, the telephone for you!"

"I'll just be a minute, Shaz," Alex said before slipping away from the table. "Thanks, Luigi." She took the phone and held it to her ear, a slight frown on her face.

"Hello?"

"Bols, it's me... I think you better 'ad come round 'ere after all."

Alex's frown deepened as she turned to face the bar, aware that all of CID was watching her. "Why, what's happened? Gene?" There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Alex's eyes widened as she started to panic a little. "Gene, tell me what's wrong. What's happened?"

"It's Scarlett," Gene said eventually, and his voice was tight and strained; he sounded worried sick. "She's gone."

"Gone, what do you mean gone?" Alex asked urgently. "She can't just be _gone_."

"I don't know, Bolly, I just went up to her room to talk to 'er again, see if I could get through to her, an' she wasn't there. Searched the whole house, looked out in the garden, nothing. She's gone, Bols."

Alex sighed, running a hand through her hair as Gene's desperate, panicked voice echoed in her mind. "Right, okay, don't go anywhere. I'll be right there."

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><p>Pulling her leather jacket closer around her, Scarlett carried on walking, feeling the slight chill of the evening beginning to settle in. It was still light outside, but steadily growing dark as she headed towards the less desirable parts of the city. Every small noise made her jump and she kept glancing behind her, unable to shake the feeling that <em>someone<em> was following her; someone was trying to find out what she was doing, where she was, what she was thinking... Three times she had thought she heard footsteps right behind her and had stopped, only to find that once she did come to a standstill, there was nothing but silence, and empty space behind her.

A man crouched down in a narrow, darkened alleyway caught her eye and she turned, heading towards him, glancing behind her all the while. Once she had reached the man, Scarlett caught sight of the empty, broken needle beside him and stopped. "Excuse me," she said, causing him to look up. She ignored the appreciative once over he gave her, the drained grey eyes looking her up and down as a smile stretched across his gaunt, unshaven face.

Glancing behind her again, Scarlett swallowed and looked back at the man. "Don't know where I could get any decent coke around 'ere, do yer? I'm all out," she asked, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, eyes darting up and down the alley as she pulled her jacket tighter around her again.

Slowly, and with heavy limbs, the man pulled himself to his feet and scrabbled around in his pockets for something. "How much you got?" he asked in a scratchy voice and Scarlett moved closer, so they were huddled together as he produced a small plastic bag, much like the empty one she still had stuffed in the pocket of her skirt.

Silently, Scarlett shoved a twenty pound note into his hands and took the bag, her eyes glancing down to inspect the colour of the powder before, satisfied, she pushed it deep into her pocket and, jumping slightly, looked behind her again. There was no-one there. "Thanks," she muttered as the man sank back down to the floor, carefully pocketing his money and throwing the used syringe beside him a weary glance.

He grunted in reply and Scarlett left quickly, walking with a panicked urgency back the way she had came, her hand coming up subconsciously to scratch at her nose as the sun dipped down behind the London skyline, casting dusk across the city.

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><p><strong><em>*Bites lip nervously* - hope that was okay for you all! This is new for me to be writing, so I hope I'm doing an okay job at it. But don't worry, there will still be plenty of Galex, but they are in for a bumpy ride. :P Please review!<em>**

**_X =D_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Well, this is the last pre-written chapter I have, so I apologise if the ones following this take a little longer, as I'll have to actually write them as I go. :P I'd just like to thank TheFatalIllusion again, for being awesome and reading these seven chapters through for me. :D Anyway, I'll let you get on with reading now - thank you all for your lovely reviews! _**

**_X :D_**

**_Disclaimer - Ashes to Ashes isn't mine, I'm just pretending. :P_**

_**Chapter 7**_

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><p>Gene looked near on frantic by the time Alex had arrived. Dusk was descending on the streets of London, and Gene knew all too well about the sort of things that could happen to a teenage girl, wandering around alone with a reckless attitude. His face looked as though it had aged ten years when he opened the door, worry clear in his expression.<p>

"Christ on a bike, you got 'ere quick, Bols."

"Well it is urgent, Gene," Alex said, stepping inside. "She's only fifteen, and she doesn't know the city. God knows where she could be!"

"Oh he does, does he? Well it'd be nice of this God of yours t' tell us then!" Gene snapped, fire flashing in his eyes for a split second. "I don't need you t' tell me it's flamin' urgent, Bolly!"

"Alright, calm down for a minute, Gene, will you? It's not my fault she's gone missing. Now how did she get out, didn't you hear the front door go?"

There was a pause whilst Gene's glare lessened and he let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. He was dressed in jeans and an old, dark green rugby shirt, and if Alex hadn't been so preoccupied with worrying about Scarlett, she would have found herself drooling a little at the way the blue denim clung to his backside, and how the green shirt made his shoulders look that bit broader.

"Window was open when I went in," he said eventually, his tone weary and resigned. Alex saw the look of apology in his eyes and gave him a small smile, knowing he hadn't meant to snap at her. If the same thing had happened with Molly back in 2008, she would have been a lot more stressed, and a lot less collected than Gene. "She must 'ave slipped down the drainpipe or something, and crept down the side alley out on t' the street..."

Alex sighed, glancing up at the stairs. "Right, well I've sent Ray and Chris out to the main coach and train stations for Manchester, so if she's trying to get back home they'll hopefully spot her before she can go anywhere. And Shaz has given a description to Viv, who's ringing around nearby stations so uniform can be on the lookout."

"And you, Bols?" Gene asked, lip twitching ever so slightly as he thought of the effort she had gone to. He was impressed, and, if he dare admit it, touched, that she had gone to so much trouble to help him out with a problematic situation that was really nothing to do with her.

She shrugged. "We can walk the streets; look out for her that way? I'll do whatever you want."

"Hope that's a promise, Bolly," Gene shot back with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, but the suggestive glint in his eyes and tone was missing. Instead, there was just worry and fear, and if Alex wasn't mistaken, disappointment. Not in her, not in his daughter, but in himself. He looked disappointed in himself.

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><p>Darkness was truly starting to close in on London as Scarlett wandered aimlessly around an unfamiliar park, shadows lurking in the bushes, the dim light of dusk picking out the blackness in amongst the trees. She walked with one hand in her pocket, absentmindedly fingering the tiny plastic bag that held her release. Stopping by a bench, Scarlett surreptitiously looked around the park, silence all around her as her fingers closed around the cocaine in her pocket and she pulled it out.<p>

Her hands were shaking as she clutched the bag of white powder, nervously looked around again and knelt down on the damp grass. Then, just as before, she pulled out a piece of card and this time a straw before picking up the tiny plastic bag again. Silence rang in her ears; the darkness in the nearby bushes unnerving as Scarlett swallowed and self-consciously rubbed the side of her nose. She had just emptied half the contents of the bag very carefully onto a wooden slat of the park bench when a loud voice sounded from behind her.

"Scarlett Hunt?"

She jumped, her whole body freezing, the blood in her veins turning to ice as she stared wide-eyed at the small pile of white powder on the bench, along with the card and McDonald's straw lying next to it. In one panicked, frantic movement, she swept it all off the bench but already, the sound of footsteps had stopped beside her. With her heart hammering in her chest, Scarlett slowly twisted her head around, glare already in place.

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><p>Gene and Alex only made it to the end of the street before a buzz of more than just static came through the radio.<p>

"Hunt," Gene said gruffly into it, quickly grabbing it off Alex.

"Pitchley, Fenchurch West, sir. We've found your daughter."

Next to him, Alex let out a sigh of relief and Gene said, "Never thought I'd owe Fenchurch West a round of drinks. Where is she?"

There was a pause, static buzzing, and then, "We've got her in holding, sir. One of my colleagues arrested her around ten minutes ago for possession of Class A drugs."

At the same time, Alex and Gene exchanged shocked, wide-eyed glances before turning back and racing towards the Quattro without another word, their minds reeling from the Fenchurch West officer's words.

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><p>As soon as they got back in and the front door had shut firmly, Scarlett made to escape up the stairs but Gene was quicker. He reached out and grabbed her, his fingers tightening around her forearm as he yanked his daughter back to face him, his eyes ablaze with anger, fury and burning disappointment. Alex stood in the hallway, more than a little uncomfortable as she watched on with her mouth slightly open, a word frozen between her lips. She wondered whether to say anything or not.<p>

"I don't think so, madam," Gene growled, pulling Scarlett back as she tried to wrestle her arm out of his grip. "I just put my neck on the line t' get you off with nothing but a caution, do you understand 'ow much that has cost me? Now I know you might think I'm shit, and nothing but a low-life bastard, good fer nothing father, but round 'ere I'm respected. I'm a DCI, my team 'as one of the best clean-up rates in the city. And here you are, _my_ _daughter_, getting arrested fer taking cocaine!" He pushed his face closer to hers, his expression furious and tone seething as he asked, "Now do you care to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

For a long time, there was silence. Scarlett glowered at her Dad, and Gene glared back at her, his face set and determined. He didn't loosen his grip on her arm. Finally, Scarlett spat, "It's nothing t' do with you."

"I think you'll find it is," Gene told her through gritted teeth, and Alex could see a vein in his neck pulsating from anger. Fury rolled off him in waves, and she was sure she had never before seen him this angry. Usually when Gene was angry about something, he bellowed, he kicked things, threw his fists about and generally made a racket. But now, Alex could tell he was _furious_, practically seething at what his daughter had done – so much so that he couldn't do anything but focus all his energy on finding out why she done it.

"You live under _my_ roof, yer in _my_ charge, and yer _my_ daughter. So if you're found takin' co-bloody-caine, then I think you'll find it 'as got something to do with me! Now 'ow long has this been going on, 'ave yer taken it before? Does yer Mam know? Good God, Scarlett, yer fifteen!"

"_Your_ daughter now, am I?" Scarlett asked, her voice deadly quiet. Her eyes were centred, focused and angry. There was a tense silence; Alex saw it coming and stepped forwards a second too late. Scarlett exploded.

"Where were you on my first day of school then? Where were you when I got tonsillitis and 'ad to go t' the hospital t' get 'em out? Where were you when I was fucking terrified of something going wrong? Where the _fuck_, 'Dad', were you when I came home crying three years ago because I'd over'eard my best friends bitching about me t' a load of other girls?" Scarlett was screaming now, screeching at Gene, enraged as hot, angry tears streamed down her face. She viciously yanked her arm out from his grip.

"Oh yeah, 'course, that's right! You 'ad just pissed off t' London and _left _me, not that yer were bothered about seeing me often in the first place!"

Alex took a step forwards, holding one hand out. "Scarlett-"

"Shut up!" she yelled, lashing round to glare at Alex, breathing heavily. "Piss off, bitch, this 'as got nothing t' do with you!" Before Alex could even reply or try again to calm her down, Scarlett spun around again and bored in on Gene, her fists clenched by her sides, knuckles burning white with fury.

"You weren't there on my first day o' school, because you didn't give a shit! An' when I was terrified of dying or something, because I was only _seven years old_, you didn't even want t' turn up to stick some grapes on my bedside table, give me a card and tell me everything would be okay! And _you_," she seethed, the accusation in her eyes enough to drive a knife through anyone's heart, "didn't do anything to make me feel better when people started telling me that it were no wonder you'd left, that they wished I was dead and that I should just go 'ang myself, because _you weren't fucking there_!"

She took a deep breath, glaring at Gene still through her tears. She raised an arm to point a finger at him, her expression one of pure hatred and disgust. "And you're my Dad, are yer?" She gave a humourless, bitter laugh and then snarled, "Well whoop-di-doo, aren't I a lucky girl? Don't you _dare_ tell me what t' do, or 'ow old I am – I'm surprised yer can even remember!" And with that, Scarlett whirled around and flew up the stairs, her footsteps thudding on the floor before her bedroom door slammed shut, and the house fell suddenly, eerily silent.

Alex watched, holding her breath as Gene stared up the stairs at the point where his daughter had just vanished in a whirlwind of fury, his face shocked. He was gobsmacked, speechless, lost for words. Slowly, all of Scarlett's words sank in and before Alex's eyes, he crumbled.

Dropping slowly backwards onto the floor, Gene came to rest unceremoniously on the carpet, his knees up in front of him, back against the wall, defeated. A look of utter shock was still painted on his face and Alex watched as very gradually, the expression of shock turned to anger, then to horror and then finally, to a look of complete and utter self-loathing. And to her shock and disdain, Alex watched as a tear began to roll down his cheek, leaving a forlorn, glistening path down the side of his face.

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><p><strong><em>Well, another cliffhanger, sort of... I'm quite evil, aren't I? But I do promise to try and update soon; thank you for reading, and please review!<em>**

**_X :D_**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thank you all for your lovely reviews, as ever! I really appreciate your comments. :D Anyways, here is the next chapter; enjoy! But before you do, I'd just like to say, to anyone who hasn't already read in my A/N for the last chapter of Broken Hearts and Twisted Minds, that this won't be updated again until December. I'm putting all my fan-fiction stories on a temporary hiatus over November whilst I attempt to juggle NaNoWriMo, a French speaking exam, and mock exams. Wish me luck! :P **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – Ashes to Ashes is nay mine. :P**_

_**Chapter 8**_

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><p>Breath caught in her throat, Alex stared at Gene, shocked. What should she do? This was Gene Hunt, her DCI, the ferocious Manc Lion. He didn't <em>do<em> comfort. At least, he hadn't done in all the time she had known him. He wasn't just any person. If he was anyone else, she would have been on the floor beside him in an instant, her arms around his shoulders, murmuring that it was okay. Somehow, Alex didn't think Gene would exactly appreciate being mothered by her. She could bet her life on the fact that he was probably berating himself for showing such weakness in front of her already.

She took a small, tentative step forwards. Silence hung in the air, dangerous and delicate. When she swallowed, it sounded too loud to her own ears. As she stepped forward again, she asked softly: "G-Gene?"

Teeth clenched together as though trying to hold back a torrent of emotion, Gene stared straight ahead, body tensed. His gaze didn't even flicker to look at her. "Leave, Bols."

"Gene-"

"I said leave," he cut across her abruptly, voice rough and at the point of breaking. "Just go, Alex. This isn't your problem."

Alex frowned slightly, moving slightly closer to him. She bent her knees a little, as though making to crouch down beside him, but thought better of it for the time being and remained standing. "No, I'm not leaving. You can't boss me around here, Gene. You need me. And if I decide it is, this _is_ my problem. You don't have to refuse help all the time, you know."

"_Alex_." The use of her actual first name and the warning in his tone signalled that his patience and willpower was wearing thin. The torrent of emotions was pushing and shoving to reach the surface, to show through his demeanour, to come pouring forth from the walls he always kept carefully constructed around himself.

"I mean it, Gene," she said, knees bending again. "There are some things you can't do on your own."

Deciding that crouching down beside him and treating him like a child still wasn't a good idea, she moved round to sit on the bottom step of the stairs, so at least now if he continued to insist on staring straight ahead, it would mean his gaze was boring through, or piercing, her. She sat in front of him in silence for a few moments, trying to gather the right words to say.

Gene looked completely and utterly defeated. Alex knew he was older than her by almost ten years, but now he actually looked it. The lines on his face seemed more pronounced; there was a definite droop in the line of his lips; his eyes had lost their usual vigour and now just looked dull and lifeless. She found it wryly ironic that during the months she had worked with Gene, she had sometimes wished for something to come along that might knock him off his stride, shut him up for a few minutes and prove to him that he wasn't as big and clever as he liked to make out he was. Now, that something had come. But she had never, ever expected it to come in the form of a daughter she hadn't known he even had.

Alex let out a long, heavy sigh, clasping her hands loosely in front of her. This whole thing was a mess.

"She's fifteen, Gene, and she has a lot of problems – issues that have to be dealt with, unless you want her to end up no better than the people we work to put behind bars."

"Of course I don't," he spat out, lifting his gaze momentarily to scowl at her. But somehow, Alex knew that his fury and disgust wasn't directed at her.

"I know you don't," she said, voice gentle. "But she will if you don't work through this with her, and that isn't something you can do alone. If she has got a drug problem, then she needs professional help, but again, even just finding that out is going to be a challenge. Was tonight a one-off, or has she taken it before? We don't know." She leant forwards, eyes wide open and imploring. Something made Gene lift his gaze to look at her straight.

"My point is that you can't do this alone, Gene. Because it will just mean the beginning of a downward spiral if you try. For both of you. You need my help, whether you like it or not. Now look..." She paused, sighing again. Her shoulders were slumped forwards.

"Gene, I am here to help you get through to Scarlett, but... And I'm not making excuses for her; what she did tonight was inexcusable, and so was the way she talked to you. But what she was saying... I, and I don't think you, can blame her for saying those things."

Alex felt like a knife was driving itself into her stomach as she spoke, as Scarlett's words haunted her in her thoughts. It was like receiving an injury to the face and looking in the mirror to see the true horror of it for the first time. "I stand by what I said to you the day Scarlett arrived. You are _not_ a shit father, Gene, because believe me I know all about what a shit father is, but..."

She took a deep breath, and Gene swallowed, knowing what she was about to say. The torture of it was evident in his eyes, the blackness of guilt and self-loathing clouding any other colour.

"But... I'm not going to pretend you're a really good one either."

A pregnant paused lasted a few seconds as that one sentence hung in the air, but it felt like ten years for both of them. Gene finally let out a sigh and shook his head almost imperceptibly. His haunted gaze, raw with remorse, met hers. When he spoke, his voice seemed small and weak.

"I'm not asking you to, Bols. I'm not asking yer to."

Alex took in a shaky breath, and gave him a small, almost meaningless smile, because she didn't know what else to do. Her stomach felt queasy, and it felt like her whole insides were shaking. Because she was way out of her depth here. She might be able to talk the talk; she might be able to promise him that she could help, that she was going to be here for him. But could she do it? There was no doubt in Alex's mind that she knew how to do it. Back in 2008, she had had numerous experiences with troubled teenagers, some far more disturbed and messed up than Scarlett was even close to being, and she had still managed to get through to them. It had taken time and effort, yes, but she had done it. And she knew she could do it again. Technically.

But in practise, Alex wondered if she really could. Could she honestly tell Gene everything was going to be okay, that he _wasn't_ a shit father? And above all else, could she forgive him?

Because this wasn't just about Scarlett. This was about her too. More than Gene could ever realise.

Because now, after hearing Scarlett's words, and after seeing the regret and guilt that hung like a ghost to Gene's expression, Alex was left with the sinking, heart-wrenching truth of what Gene had once been. It may not be what he was now – in fact, she knew it wasn't what he was now, because he was so tortured by it. But it was still what he had once been.

Trembling inside, she remembered Scarlett's words. She remembered the bitterness in her voice, the tears that had streamed, hot and angry down the distraught teenager's face. He hadn't been there for her first day at school; he hadn't turned up at the hospital when she was having her tonsils out; he hadn't shown up to visit her when he was supposed to, hadn't been there for her when the bullies at school hounded her every move. He had, in short, abandoned her. And she had seen, all too clearly, the deep pain of that abandonment on Scarlett's face.

And Alex remembered, when Scarlett had shouted all those things at him, that for a moment, just a brief, fleeting moment, she hadn't seen Gene – her boss, her friend, her constant.

She had seen Pete.

And this was the question that haunted her, the one that made her unsure about the promises she was making to help him, to stand by him and help him fix his relationship with his daughter. For a burning, hateful moment, Alex had seen everything Pete had been in Gene. And she didn't know if she could forgive him for that.

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><p>Dropping her head into her hands, Alex let out a long sigh. Because she knew the answer. Of course she forgave him; of course she would help, of course she would do everything she could in her power to help mend the relationship between Gene and Scarlett. Because if she didn't forgive him, he would never forgive himself. And that wasn't a burden Alex wanted to bear.<p>

Why she could forgive him so easily for reminding her of the very person she wanted always to forget... She didn't even want to think about that. Alex had always been one for searching for the answers to questions people hid away deep inside themselves, but even she didn't want to search that deep down.

She let out another long sigh, running a hand through her hair, already slightly dishevelled. Ironically, she said to him the words Evan had said to her when Pete abandoned her with Molly. "We're going to fix all this. I promise you, we're going to fix it. Life isn't going to feel like a mess forever."

She stood up, trying to even out her breathing. She had to pretend that at least one of them was okay.

Gene looked wearily up at her. "Where are you going?"

"Upstairs," Alex said, eyes flickering in that direction. "I'm going to talk to Scarlett about what happened tonight."

"She's not going t' want t' talk to you."

Putting one foot on the next step, Alex looked back at him, wearing a grimace. "No. But she's going to want to talk to you even less." She wet her lips briefly, swallowing again. "We're going to work this out, Gene. Everything will be fine."

He nodded as she turned to carry on up the stairs, but he looked anything but fine. Alex tried to push the image of the lingering look of self-contempt and loathing on Gene's face from her mind as she approached Scarlett's door, knocked, and gently pushed it open.

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><p><em><strong>Not really sure what to think of this chapter; it kind of came out of nowhere, really! I hope it was okay, and please review. I need to know what you think!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hey, so... It's taken me a while to figure out in my head what exactly is happening this chapter, and I am going with the flow slightly; I hope it'll be okay! Thank you so much for being patient with me, and also for your lovely reviews! I really enjoyed doing NaNoWriMo; but whew, it's good to be back! :D And without further ado, I present to you, chapter nine... :D **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer - Ashes to Ashes isn't mine, but Scarlett is. :)**_

_**Chapter 9**_

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><p>"Scarlett?"<p>

Alex's voice was soft as she entered the teenager's bedroom. The curtains hadn't been drawn, though the dark outside was no blacker than the darkness in the room, and the faint glow of the moon outside cast shadows everywhere across the walls so that Scarlett was only just visible amongst the dark shapes, hunched over herself on the bed, head buried in her knees and arms wrapped around her legs. It took Alex a moment to realise she was shaking, her whole body trembling as she sobbed, breath coming in short, ragged hiccups.

She reached to turn on the light, but thought better of it. Scarlett seemed to have sensed her presence, even if she hadn't quite heard her come in, and had recoiled even tighter into herself. Alex could hear her almost trying to muffle her sobs against her drawn up knees, but the results was that the room was filled with the sound of suppressed, deep and heavy breaths that sounded so much more torn up than the ragged crying of before.

Letting out a gentle sigh, Alex crossed the room and quietly drew the curtains. Light from the hallway still dimly illuminated the room, but the shadows weren't so intimidating anymore. She turned and realised she was out of her depth here. Completely and utterly. It was all alright when it was a stranger's child – an offender dragged in off the streets, a wayward teenager caught doing something they shouldn't have. She could talk to them then, could deal with their problems and help them open up. But this was Gene's daughter. _Gene's daughter_. And she was...

Alex looked at her again, nothing but sadness and pity in her eyes as she watched the teenage girl curl herself up as though that would shut her off from the rest of the world. She was falling apart but trying to physically hold herself together, and Alex's heart broke for her. She might be a handful and a piece of work; she might not even be the nicest person in the world, without the shit she'd been dealt. But she was still just a fifteen year old girl. A vulnerable fifteen year old girl who was so much more breakable than she probably thought and pretended to be. As she watched her, Alex had only one thought in mind.

That she never, ever wanted to see Molly like this.

The thought wrenched on her heartstrings, and she felt her tear ducts weakening. What was she supposed to do? What could she say? Scarlett hated her, hated Gene. How on earth could she be talked round?

Alex remembered the look of self-loathing on Gene's face just a few minutes before; the look that had been in his eyes haunted her, but also, it was the one thing that stopped her from hating him. He thought of himself as a monster – he had, in effect, abandoned his child. But he wasn't a monster... Was he? No, Alex told herself firmly, and tried to remind herself to return to the situation at hand. If Gene was a monster, then he wouldn't even _care_ that he had abandoned Scarlett all the times when she needed him most.

At that moment, Alex heard a muffled, angry moan escape Scarlett's lips and she edged closer to catch what she was saying.

"Fuck the hell off, Dad, or did you not get the message?"

The words were spiteful and vindictive. Scarlett turned in her position on the bed so that her back was to the room, and to Alex, as she tried to press her coiled-up self as far into the corner as possible. She reminded Alex of a wounded animal – livid, wild and unreachable. With the utterance of words, a levee seemed to have broken and the teenager's sobs came louder than before, her body shaking to the point of convulsion as she hugged her knees in a foetal position for all it was worth. She was falling apart, and Alex had never felt more powerless to help.

'I always go where I'm needed', that's what Gene had once said to her. But this was one instance where he was needed, but he just couldn't be there, because, because... The reasons were too complex for even Alex to begin to explain to herself. But she would find out, soon... She would ask him. And he would have to tell her, or God help them, this wasn't going to work.

Staring at Scarlett, Alex had no idea what to do, so she did what Gene often liked to say she always did. She talked.

"It's not your Dad, Scarlett," she said quietly, unsure of whether the teenager could hear her or not. She came a little closer and then perched herself a little precariously on the edge of the bed, far enough away so that she wasn't invading her personal space, but close enough that she could talk comfortably. "It's me... Alex."

The sobbing hitched slightly, as though it was being suppressed again, the air supply cut off, and then Scarlett spat out viciously: "Well you can fuck off too."

Alex sighed gently. The language didn't bother her, and it was hardly the height of their worries. "Scarlett..." She tried again, keeping her voice gentle. "I'm not your enemy; I'm not here to tell you off or to tell you what to do. I'm just here to talk to you. I want to help you, Scarlett."

"I don't want yer help."

The shuddering, quaking sobs had started to fade away now, and Scarlett's body was shaking less. She kept herself wrapped up around herself though, face buried in her knees. Alex could see her hair was matted over her face, wet with the drying saltwater of tears. She swallowed over the rising lump in her throat as a wave of pity and empathy for the girl washed through her with surprising force. This wasn't the mouthy teenager who had first made an appearance at the station just a couple of days before. This wasn't a hard-faced drug addict who didn't care a jot what anyone else said or thought, least of all her father. This was Scarlett Hunt, the broken, unhappy girl, weeping for what must be a thousand things and God knows what.

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><p>Barely aware of her own actions, Alex tentatively reached out a hand and, after a moment's hesitation, placed it gently on Scarlett's shoulder.<p>

Her reaction was instantaneous. Scarlett jerked her whole body away from Alex's touch in one sudden movement, and whipped her head around to glare at her. Blonde hair hung lank and damp around her face, some strands stuck to her cheeks where they mixed with the watery mascara trails that ruined her complexion. She glared at Alex, seething.

"_Don't touch me_."

With a resigned sigh, Alex dropped her gaze from Scarlett's, which was wild with an almost animalistic ferocity, and withdrew her hand. It dropped uselessly into her lap.

"Scarlett, I know you're angry. I know you're upset," she said softly, deciding it was best to not force the teenager into eye contact again just yet. "You have every right to be. I know you're Dad's not a saint and I know he's hurt you more than most people would be able to comprehend. He wasn't there for you every time you needed him. I get that." She lifted her gaze to meet Scarlett's, and somehow, amongst the rage and the fire in the distraught teenager's eyes, she managed to find some sort of connection. "I get it, Scarlett," she said, voice gentle as ever, "I really do get it."

"But?" Scarlett asked, still spitting her words out bitterly from between her lips. But there was a slight tremble in her voice now, and Alex could have sworn she detected just the faintest glimmer of something in her eyes – hope, desperation? Or some sort of combination between the two?

"_But_," Alex said entreatingly, "Your Dad isn't the monster you see him as. The way he's treated you, the way he's made you feel... He hates himself for that, Scarlett, he really does. I don't think he'll ever stop hating himself for letting you down."

"Yeah, well 'e shouldn't," Scarlett spat, glaring down at the duvet cover now. She was sat side on to Alex, turned away from her. There were angry tears building in her eyes again, behind the glassy walls of fire. "I hope 'e feels guilty," she said, her voice taking on a new quality of icy revenge. "I hope he hates 'imself. I hope he feels the way 'e made me feel for the rest of 'is sorry life – useless, horrible, unwanted and stupid."

"Scarlett, your Dad doesn't think you're any of those things. No-one does."

The teenage girl lifted her eyes to Alex's face for just a split second – long enough for Alex to see the deprecating, humourless laugh in them – and then she cast her gaze downwards again. "Doesn't matter whether 'e thinks it or not. Matters that that's 'ow he made me feel. How he still makes me feel."

For some reason, although it felt out of place in the circumstances, Alex felt the smallest of smiles touching her lips. They were getting somewhere, she thought. Not far, but... baby steps. It was enough, for now.

"I know, Scarlett, I know." She reached out to gently place a hand on Scarlett's shoulder again, and this time, she didn't jerk her body away. She stiffened slightly, but didn't move. "But you would not believe how sorry he is. And I _know_ that doesn't make anything better, because sometimes sorry just isn't enough. Sometimes it takes more than that, it takes actions. But your Dad is willing to try, Scarlett. He wants to make it up to you; he doesn't want you to hate him, though he understands why you do. But you have to try as well, Scarlett... Things like this don't get fixed overnight."

There was a long silence. It stole in from the night and filled up the room; oppressive in its invisibility and smothering nothingness. Alex kept her eyes trained on Scarlett, watching the teenage girl's every move as she angrily swiped hot tears away and swallowed. They both had painful lumps in their throats, and Alex's spare hand was clenched into an anxious fist on her knee.

"I know it looks and feels like it now, and I know it's going to take a long time and lot of work to make those feelings go away, but your Dad isn't a monster." Alex wet her lips and swallowed, feeling the sting of tears rising in her own eyes. "He's just made a lot of mistakes, and maybe one day, we'll both understand why he made them. But what matters right now is that he hates that he abandoned you, and I would be prepared to bet everything I own that he wants nothing more on this earth than to be worthy of your forgiveness."

The long silence descended again, and then –

"He's right," Scarlett said, looking around slightly to glance at Alex. "Yer do speak like there's a plum in yer gob. Worthy of forgiveness, my arse."

A small, watery chuckle escaped Alex as she looked down, and was surprised to catch the flash of a wry smile cross Scarlett's face too.

"Sorry... It's not something I can help."

"M'sure it's not," Scarlett murmured darkly, twisting and shifting a little in her position so that she wasn't hunched up away from Alex anymore. She was by no means thawed, but she didn't quite feel the need to freeze Alex out with the cold shoulder anymore. "Bet if I cut yer'open you'd bleed a load of Bollinger and soufflé or whatever it's called..."

Alex laughed a little weakly again and shook her head. The comment that Scarlett was just like her father came to the tip of her tongue, but she thought it best not to say it. Silence filled the room once more, but it wasn't quite so oppressive this time, and didn't last as long.

Eventually, Scarlett muttered, her voice still hard and rough, but no longer spiteful: "I still hate 'im... Don't see 'ow I'm ever going t' not hate him fer what he did t' me. And t' Mam, though she doesn't win many prizes for world's best parent either."

"I know, Scarlett... It's not going to happen overnight, but... Are you willing to try?"

Stubborn indecision still lurked on Scarlett's face, the glare still in her eyes, her lips still set in a harsh line. Alex sighed gently.

"Scarlett... When I first arrived here, not too long ago, I didn't think I would possibly be able to stick around. The thought of spending more than a few hours in the company of your father disgusted me; I hated him, I really did. I blamed everything on him, and... Well, to be honest, I thought he was nothing but a low-life scumbag of a police officer who thought he could do whatever he pleased, with an inflated ego and a revoltingly sexist attitude. He just made me _so_ angry..."

Scarlett frowned at her, scowling a little. "Sounds about right t' me. What made yer change yer mind?"

Alex shook her head and smiled ever so slightly. "I realised that he isn't that at all, Scarlett. He acts that way, sometimes, for reasons even I haven't worked out quite yet... But underneath it all, your Dad is a good man. And trust me, I'd know, because I haven't met many of them in my time. I certainly didn't marry one. But I've learnt to accept him, the good parts and the bad parts, and the good parts are... They outweigh the bad parts by a mile, Scarlett, they really do. He is a good man, I promise you. A good, kind, honest and decent man who works hard to protect people. He's just a little rough around the edges, that's all..." She finished with the smallest of smiles, but Scarlett caught the emotion behind it, even if Alex wasn't able to identify it yet.

"It's easy for you t' say," Scarlett eventually said, looking away again. "I mean, you obviously lo– " She stopped abruptly as Alex's head suddenly jerked up to look at her. "You work with him, is what I mean, day in, day out... I don't see all that..." She shrugged. "He abandoned me, an' made me feel shit, and... I just can't see 'im as anythin' more than the bastard who did that t' me without a care in the world."

Putting her head slightly on one side, Alex tried to smooth out the frown from her face and spoke softly. "Can't? Or won't?" She swallowed and tried to ignore the fact that Scarlett quite clearly hadn't been about to say that she _worked_ with her Dad.

There was yet another long silence, tense and cold. Scarlett dropped back from her sitting position into a lying down one with a soft thud as she pulled the duvet up towards her, clearly growing tired. "I don't know," she mumbled, rolling away so that she wasn't facing Alex anymore. "Yer talk too much, he gets that right at least. Can't believe I've listened to yer for this long."

Alex stayed where she was for a few moments, just looking at Scarlett as her eyes began to close. She was shutting out the world again, yet somehow, this time, Alex felt like things might just be a tiny bit better in the morning. No, she hadn't found out about the drugs, she hadn't even mentioned them... But Scarlett was no addict, no hard-faced dealer, too far gone to be dealt with. The cocaine was just another problem, and they would deal with it. But first she needed softening, she needed someone to help her accept that Gene would do anything for her, even if he hadn't in the past... And Alex felt that maybe, just maybe, they had made some small amount of progress in that direction.

With a soft sigh, she pulled the duvet further up so it was covering Scarlett properly, and then stood up. "Well thank you, I suppose," she said, smiling a little wryly, "For putting up with me and listening to my psycho-babble, as your Dad calls it."

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><p>As she left the room, Alex was suddenly overtaken by a feeling of intense tiredness. Exhaustion washed over her like a wave, and she was sure she had never done anything so hard in her life. Pausing, she rubbed her hands over her face and ran her fingers through her hair, sighing again. But when she removed her hands from her face, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Gene edging towards her, coming out from a doorway that she presumed led to his bedroom.<p>

The look of strained discontent and self-loathing was still on his face, and his eyes were those of a desperate, but also ridiculously grateful man. Alex just stood as he stood there too, just looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite fathom.

After a few moments, Gene spoke. "I...I wanted t'..."

"How much did you hear?"

He swallowed, his face somewhere halfway between a dismissive pout and a grimace. "Most of it, I think..."

Alex nodded a little absently, and then gave him a small smile. She glanced in the direction of the stairs. "Can we...? I need a drink."

"Oh, yeah, um... Wait, Bols." He reached out to stop her turning away from him, and then, before Alex could even register what was happening, he had pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

Surprised, and caught off guard, Alex stiffened for a split second, before she relaxed into the embrace and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back in the dim light of the hallway. She leant her forehead against his shoulder and breathed in, closing her eyes. He smelt of warmth, whisky, tobacco smoke and safety, and the irrational desire to never move from this position flitted across her mind before she banished it.

"Just want t' say thanks, Bolly," Gene murmured gruffly as his arms loosened around her to let her go. "Again. I'd be up shit creek without yer."

Her lips twitched into a slight smile, and she found she couldn't quite meet his gaze for fear of him seeing something there that even she wasn't sure of. "Anytime, Gene. You know that."

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><p><em><strong>Well... I think I'm happy with how this chapter has turned out... I was winging it a little blindly in the middle, so I hope it all flowed okay and fits alright. Please let me know what you think; it's been a long time since I last wrote something like this, so it'd be great to hear your thoughts! Thank you as ever for reading, and I'll update soon... And if not before Christmas, a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Hello! Thank you, as ever, for all your wonderful reviews; I can never get over the loveliness of the people in this fandom – on here and on Tumblr, you're just all such amazingly lovely people! I want to hug you all every time I get a review or message from you. :P Anyway, once I'm done getting sentimental over you guys, you may read the chapter! :) The last few updates have been pretty Scarlett-heavy, so I decided some Galex was definitely needed round about now…**_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes… Gosh, it breaks my heart to say those words! :P**_

_**Chapter 10**_

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><p>"Here," Gene said, pushing a large glass of red wine into Alex's hands before sitting down on the sofa next to her. He took a long swig from the beer bottle in his hand and swung his feet up onto the coffee table, where scuff marks already resided from the many times his trademark crocodile skin boots had graced the worn wooden top.<p>

"Thanks." Alex gave him a grateful smile and drained more than half the glass in one go before placing it carefully on the coffee table, away from Gene's feet so it wouldn't get knocked over. Shifting a little, she brought her legs up to tuck under her so she was sat more comfortably, facing Gene, with one elbow resting against the sofa back, hand propping up the side of her head.

Gene still looked pensive, a familiar pout resting on his lips as he stared down into space, not speaking. Alex reached out with the hand that wasn't propping her head up to nudge him affectionately, greeting him with a small smile when he turned his head to look at her.

"Hey, it's going to be okay you know, Gene… She'll be alright. You both will."

The atmosphere in the darkened room was quiet. The only light shone weakly from a dim lamp on a table in the corner, so that half their faces were in shadow, and the blackness of the night outside hardly seemed darker than the greyness of the room. Despite this, Alex felt remarkably comfortable in Gene's living room, sat on his slightly old, slightly too squishy sofa. She tried not to dwell too long on the fact that it felt so right, sitting there with him in peaceful companionship, nursing a glass of wine and not fighting over something as they did all too often in CID.

"Not without you, Bols," Gene eventually said, his words low and soft. "You're the one she listens to… A little bit, at least. Doesn't give a damn what 'er old Dad thinks." He swallowed. "Don't blame 'er."

Wetting her lips, Alex sighed softly and picked up her wine glass again. "You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Gene. You're doing fine. And you know, she will come around, I can promise you that… At the end of the day, it's you she needs to have a relationship with, not me. And she will. But you both need to let go of the past. In order for her to forgive you, you have to forgive yourself."

With a wry smile, Gene allowed his head to fall back against the back of the sofa and looked over at her. "S'too late in evening for yer psycho bollocks, Bolly."

Alex smiled. "That's more like the Gene Hunt I know and – "

She stopped abruptly, instantly feeling the heat spreading up from her chest to her neck and face. Her eyes darted downwards as she drowned her suddenly wide-eyed gaze in the deep red of the wine in her glass.

_Shit. _

The silence in the room suddenly seemed thicker than before, imposing as it hung over them like a sword, ready to hurt. Gene's eyes were fixed to her like glue, his fingers frozen around the neck of the beer bottle. For some reason, he found his throat dry; the words got stuck. He swallowed, and it sounded too loud in the absolute silence.

"Bolly – "

A nervous laugh escaped her, and she pushed herself to look up at him again. But just like before when he had hugged her at the top of the stairs, she couldn't quite meet his gaze. "You know what I mean."

"Bols – "

Gene didn't miss the flicker of fear that flared up in her eyes at his persistence, and he felt his heart mysteriously begin to pound in his chest. The reasonably cool room felt just a little too warm for his liking all of a sudden.

"Leave it, Gene. You know what I meant."

He watched as she knocked the rest of her wine back in one gulp, her eyes looking everywhere but directly at him. For a few moments, he was lost for words. Yes, he had known what she meant.

The first time she said it.

The second time… the second time smacked all too much of unneeded justification. Of nervousness, of poorly disguised panic. Gene was no psychologist – far from it – but he wasn't a detective for nothing.

Good God, the daft tart hadn't gone and fallen for him, had she?

Had she? He studied her briefly again – studied the way her gaze was still staring down into the depths of her now empty glass as though the last few dregs of wine there were the most interesting things in the world. There was a slight flush in her cheeks, an openness, a wideness to her eyes… her full lips were slightly parted. The thought suddenly came to him that he took her beauty for granted sometimes. She was bloody gorgeous.

She couldn't have fallen for him. Couldn't even have any of those feelings for him… She might love him as a colleague, as a friend, even… But not like that. Not the way he want- He stopped his train of thought.

_Dangerous territory, Genie boy. Don't go there. _

So why was his heart still pounding in his chest, the thudding of it against his ribcage seeming to echo itself in the dark silence of the room? Why did he not quite know what to say to her, how to move the conversation on from the awkward rut it had suddenly found itself in?

"Bols," he said softly again, and he could have sworn he saw her flinch, as though she was waiting for some great blow that she knew she just wouldn't be able to bear. Noticing this, he changed the rest of his sentence last minute – chickened out.

"Would you forgive me?" he asked.

Surprised, Alex looked up at him. Her body was still slightly tense, but there was visible relief in her eyes that he hadn't pushed the subject any further. Her eyebrows knitted together slightly and she unconsciously tilted her head to one side, confused.

Gene leant forward to place his now empty beer bottle on the table next to his feet. "I mean… if it was you… Would yer forgive me, Bolly?"

What felt like a million years of silence passed before Alex answered, and when she did her words were softly spoken – honest and genuine. They set Gene's heart racing again as he wondered how it was she could have such a great effect on him. It was like there was an aura of power about her that just couldn't be denied.

"I have forgiven you, Gene," she said quietly, looking up at him from beneath long, curved eyelashes. She blinked, and then looked at him properly, lifting her head up to meet his gaze.

"There's something about you, Gene Hunt… It doesn't matter what you do, or what you say to me, or to other people, even when I don't know the reasons for your actions. I always forgive you."

A sad smile touched her lips. "I don't think I even know why, but I do. Every time."

There was another tense silence following that, and her words carried more poignancy than Gene could ever have imagined. They touched him on a level he hadn't known he had and as he looked back at her, their steady gazes connected, belying so much, every inch of him longed to reach out and touch her. He wanted to trace the outline of her lips with his fingertips, wanted to brush his thumb across her cheek and cup her jaw in his hands… He had never truly understood before what people meant when they described someone as beautiful, inside and out. But in that moment, he felt like he was looking at the dictionary definition.

The glimmer of a smile quirked on the corner of his lips. "It's because yer a fruitcake, Bolly."

One of her most genuine laughs escaped her at that, unrestrained and unprompted. It was rich and full-bodied, her eyes lighting up as her head tilted back a little, mouth wide and smiling. She looked back at him with a dancing gaze. "That must be it," she said, and the laughter remained as an undertone to her words. "I'm going mad."

"_Going_ mad?" Gene snorted. "Yer've always been mad, ever since the day I met you."

Rolling her eyes, Alex shoved her empty wine glass towards him. "Oh shut up and go get me another one of these. What is it, by the way? It's better than Luigi's usual plonk anyway, whatever it is."

Gene chuckled and took the glass from her and picked his empty beer bottle up too. "You're the boss, Bols."

She arched a suggestive eyebrow at that. "I was rather under the impression that you were the boss, _DCI_ Hunt."

"Don't tell the others," he warned her, gesturing with the hand that held the beer bottle. "Ruin my reputation."

Alex grinned. "My lips are sealed."

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><p>The first thing Gene became aware of when he woke was that he was most definitely not in his usual sleeping position. The second thing he became aware of was that he wasn't in bed, and neither was he alone. Very slowly, as he groggily opened his eyes, he became aware of a warm presence at his side, a body leaning against his, hair tickling the side of his face. And finally, the last thing he became very suddenly aware of was the hand resting carelessly on his thigh, red nails contrasting against the black of his trousers… which would end up being a lot tighter if her hand accidentally ventured any higher.<p>

"Bolly." His voice came out gruff and still heavy with sleep. He tried to shift slightly in an attempt to alleviate the dull ache at the base of his back that had come from falling asleep whilst still sat slouched on the sofa, but at the movement, a small, incoherent moan of protest slipped from between Alex's lips and she snugged closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Gene froze. His eyes were wide as he tried to steady his breathing, tried to calm his erratic pulse rate. Alex Drake had fallen asleep on him. Alex Drake was _snuggling_ up to him. Alex Drake's hand was on his thigh. Alex Drake's body was pressed up against the side of his. He could feel the warmth of her skin against his neck, could smell the light, feminine, floral scent of her shampoo from the hair that was tickling his chin. A lazy, absent smile rested on her lips as she slept, content to rest her head snugly on his shoulder, one hand on his chest, the other… He swallowed and gritted his teeth to keep back a moan that was just begging to escape him.

A few moments of tense silence and deep breathing later, Gene tried to shift slightly again, his arm wrapping around Alex's waist to move her with him.

"Bolly… Bols… Wake up, Bolly."

"Mhm…" She only snuggled herself closer to him, if that was possible, and Gene watched with wide, alarmed eyes as the hand resting on his thigh slipped upwards a little. The breath caught in his throat, and a small, strangled groan escaped him. She really was going to be the death of him.

"Right," he muttered, "That's quite enough taking advantage of the Gene Genie fer one night."

In one swift movement, he managed to gather Alex up into his arms and stood, carrying her from the room. His mind flashed back to the first day he had met her – all fur coat and no knickers, protesting as he carried her across the threshold of his kingdom. He hadn't known then that she was never bloody going to leave – his kingdom or his mind.

"Yer want t' eat a bit more, Bolly," he said as he carried her up the stairs, surprised at how light she was; not that she had ever been fat. "Get some meat on yer."

It did occur to him that talking to someone who was evidently out cold was more or less on a level with talking to himself, but he pushed the thought aside and, as quietly as he could, so as not to wake Scarlett up, nudged open the door to his bedroom and gently placed Alex down on his bed. With a small shake of his head at how she was still fast asleep, he pulled the covers up over her and then sat down on the other side, easing off his boots. She could have a go at him for effectively kidnapping her and taking her to bed in the morning; he was bloody exhausted and so was she, evidently.

Settling down under the covers, Gene rolled to face away from Alex and told himself to forget she was there. But it was hard to ignore her presence – the weight on the other side of the duvet, the knowledge that she was there, sleeping, her warm body so close to his… He could reach out and touch her, hold her… fall asleep with his arms around her.

_Stop being a bloody poofter and get some sleep. You'll be nutty as a fruitcake too soon. _

He sighed and closed his eyes, knowing he would always remember this as the day that he finally got Alex Drake into his bed. Sort of.

What Gene didn't see as he drifted off, body turned away from her, was the broad, smug smile that slowly spread across Alex's lips as her eyes fluttered open for a moment, fully awake. She closed her eyes again and burrowed deeper under the duvet, shifting her body slightly closer to Gene. After all, she could hardly be held responsible for what she did unconsciously in her sleep now, could she?

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><p><em><strong>Ooh, I enjoyed writing that! I'd forgotten how much I really love writing Gene and Alex in these sorts of situations. Hope you liked it too and please review! <strong>_

_**X :D**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Blah… Am bogged down with exam revision and preparation for a French speaking exam at the moment, so have been writing this chapter in a notebook with a torch under my bedcovers for twenty minutes over a few nights! I know, I'm like Harry Potter, practising his magic by moonlight… :P Anyway, thank you very much for your reviews – your lovely comments are keeping me sane amongst all the school madness! Hope you like this chapter, and please keep the feedback coming! **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes… but I should bloody get the rights to it, what with all this work! It should be my reward. :D **_

_**Chapter 11**_

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><p>The red illuminated numbers of the digital clock on her bedside table were nothing but a bright blur, standing out against the backdrop of pure darkness. Blearily, Scarlett swiped the sleep and remnants of dried saltwater tears from around her eyes and hauled herself into a sitting position. She let out a pained groan and lifted a woozy hand to her head. Just looking at the clock hurt. The mother of all headaches was torturing her; her throat was dry, she felt dizzy – the shadows swarmed before her eyes. A heavy, jagged pulse was beating on her brain.<p>

With another pained moan, Scarlett pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The bright red blur of the clock still hurt her eyes, but she could make out now that it was somewhere between three and four in the morning. As she went to stand up, a bout of nausea struck her like a tonne of bricks and she fell backwards again. Pain flared in the back of her dry throat and her nose hurt – as if she needed to blow it, but it was too dry, too cold.

Holding her head with one hand and using the other to feel her way, Scarlett eventually managed to stagger her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Her movements were jerky and lethargic, as though she couldn't quite get her brain to send the signals to her limbs properly. Her head was killing her, and through the sleepy, pained haze, Scarlett recognised the vaguely familiar symptoms of dehydration.

In the near darkness, she shakily filled a glass with water and downed it in one, spilling most of it down her clothes – creased to oblivion now they had been slept in. Filling the glass again, Scarlett let out a long sigh and drank slower this time. She drained half the glass and then sank down to the floor, the glass of water beside her, back against the bathtub, head between her knees. It felt like there were a thousand drums, all beating in her head, thrumming against her temples.

What felt like hours passed, though the light outside didn't change, so it couldn't have been that long. She continued to take sips of the cold water, getting up once to refill her glass. Eventually, slowly, after an age of dark and silence, Scarlett began to feel the dizziness subside. The world stopped spinning; the beat on her brain started to fade away. Her eyes, nose and throat felt a bit more normal again, and she could see clearer.

She could think clearer, too.

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><p>That stuff was poison; she knew that. She wasn't stupid, and she didn't have a problem. Not with drugs, anyway. Hell, she didn't even <em>like<em> the stuff. And she could count on one hand the times she had actually taken it.

Letting out a long sigh, Scarlett wearily dropped her head back down between her knees. It was still five times too many.

She didn't even know why she had brought some here, or why she had gone out looking for more. What had she been thinking? Anything could have happened to her. And she hated taking it – hated the way she felt so dehydrated and sluggish afterwards, the way her nose hurt and how she felt like every cell in her body was out of energy. It was a horrible feeling – one that made her feel like all the life had been sucked out of her afterwards. It just really wasn't worth the momentary fleeting numbness it brought – the feeling of weightlessness, of adrenaline and confidence.

Scarlett swallowed contemptuously and reached for the glass of water on the floor next to her.

"Fuck you, Danny," she muttered, gulping the last of it down like it was vodka.

This was all Danny's fault. She hated him. She hated his close cut hair, long arms and bitten down fingernails. Just the thought of him now made her upper lip curl in disgust. How could she ever have found him attractive? Thinking about it now, she wasn't sure she ever had… But he had offered her an escape, something to do. God knows she had been desperate for it. And if it hadn't been for him and his persuasive words, the way he used to whisper his little taunts in her ear and press the rolled up ten pound note into her hands, she'd never even have gone anywhere near cocaine.

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><p>"<em>Come on, Scarlett, it's a <em>party._ Don't be such a fucking bore…"_

"_Aw, is the iccle liccle copper's daughter scared of being told off by 'er Mammy?"_

"_Just try it, Scarlett, 'ave a bit of fun fer once… You were alright last time yer did it, weren't yer? Yer didn't die."_

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><p>Scarlett gritted her teeth as she felt the heat of angry tears building up behind her eyes. Danny was a bastard and a bully, a class A prick – she could see that now. At first it had been fun. The thrill she had got just from rebelling had almost made her feel better than the coke itself. He had shown her a new way to treat the world – had said she should screw anyone who had ever let her down, should hurt everyone that had ever hurt her. It had been riotous revenge, those past few months – Scarlett Hunt against the world. Because why should she give a damn about anyone if no-one gave a damn about her? She had wanted to hurt people, make them feel pain. She didn't want to be nice anymore. Being the sad, pathetic girl that cried all the time had never been her thing. She had been <em>so<em> filled with rage, wanting to destroy everyone and everything. She had distanced herself even further away from her Mum than she already had done; she saw her as weak, as stupid and selfish for letting her Dad swan off and for then marrying some other man as though it didn't matter one jot.

Danny and his friends had encouraged her, the drink and drugs empowered her. The hair dye hid her past from view. Because who had ever heard of a ginger rebel?

* * *

><p>As Scarlett dragged herself from her thoughts and memories, she swiped at the tears spilling from her eyes. And then, she grew angry. Rage filled her up and boiled in her veins, and she clenched her fists tight.<p>

So she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, as they always say. She had turned to violence and drink and destruction, out of desperation to feel anything but hopelessness and pain. She had so far shouted and screamed and bitched her way through high school, because she had, in some twisted way, learnt that that was how you survived. Sweet and innocent never got you anywhere. People abandoned you; they stabbed you in the back and left you for dead if they knew you wouldn't stand up to them. It was better to have no feelings at all than to have them hurt and constantly ignored.

And that was all she knew. The only coping mechanism she had was self-destruction and apathy and recklessness.

Scarlett's fists clenched tighter, nails digging into her palms as she glared down at the floor. Her arms were wrapped fiercely around her legs, like she was holding herself together, and her vision was blurred by fiery tears. She remembered why she hated her Dad so much, why she couldn't forgive him, why Alex's words didn't really make her despise him any less.

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><p>"…<em>Your Dad is a good man… I've learnt to accept him, the good parts and the bad parts, and the good parts are... They outweigh the bad parts by a mile, Scarlett, they really do. He is a good man, I promise you. A good, kind, honest and decent man who works hard to protect people. He's just a little rough around the edges, that's all..."<em>

* * *

><p>She couldn't see that in him. She just… all she could see was the man who had left her and turned her into this.<p>

Self-destruction, apathy and recklessness were all she knew, and _he_ had taught her that. He had left her to become this. Scarlett felt more tears begin to stream down her face again as pain and anger rose up in her chest, choking her. She hated him. And that Alex woman could ply her with softly spoken words of wisdom all she wanted… But her Dad had hurt her more than she cared to even comprehend. He had abandoned her, made her feel unwanted by everyone. And she really didn't know if she could ever forgive him for that - for making her into who she was. He could feel as sorry and as guilty as he liked, but there was still no magic button that could make everything better.

Looking around the darkened bathroom with tears blurring her eyes, Scarlett swallowed bitterly and shook her head. Was this her life now? Being forced to live with someone she hated, someone she was so sure she could never forgive? What had she done in her life before this that was so wrong? What had she done to deserve this? Everything just felt _so_ shit.

An overwhelming wave of utter, hopeless despair crashed over her and her face screwed up as the flood gates broke and the tears began to pour down her face, her body shaking rigidly. Not for the first time, Scarlett felt everything inside her falling apart, and she just didn't have the energy to look on the bright side or push her feelings aside or hold herself together anymore.

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><p>"Gene… Gene, I… Gene, wake up…"<p>

Alex tried to shift in the position she was laid in, but there was a strong arm encircling her waist as Gene held her close to him, and one of her legs was trapped between his. She wasn't sure whether this position was through his fault or her own, or perhaps a combination of the two, but it certainly didn't give her much space to manoeuvre in. She could smell the heady scent of his aftershave, whisky and tobacco smoke from where her face had been buried against his shoulder, and her whole body felt warm where he was touching her, cradling her in his arms like she was the most precious thing on earth, as though he was scared someone was about to drag her away from him at any moment.

Pushing all thoughts of how inappropriate their positioning was considering that they were strictly _just_ colleagues and good friends, Alex tried to shift again and felt Gene's hold on her slacken a little.

"Gene," she murmured, bringing a hand up to softly brush the hair away from his forehead. "Gene, wake up… I think I can hear something, I don't know, but… I think Scarlett's crying."

"Mhm…?"

Gene merely grunted a little in his sleep, his lips parting a little way. "Go back t' sleep, Bols," he mumbled, and the arm that was around her waist slipped down to drape loosely across her hip.

Alex, trying hard to ignore the charged tingling that was zinging in the pit of her stomach, tugged away from him a little and lifted herself up on one elbow.

"Gene, you need to wake up…" The sound of muffled sobs was more distinct now, and Alex was sure it must be Scarlett. She couldn't be the one to talk to her and comfort her this time. She was here to form a relationship with Gene, not her, at the end of the day.

"Gene," she said, louder this time as she shook his shoulder. "You need to wake up. Scarlett's crying."

His eyes opening blearily, Gene rolled away from her and slowly struggled up into a sitting position. He looked around the room, trying to gather his bearings, and Alex couldn't help but bite her lip at the sight of his rumbled shirt and mussed up hair. Who'd have known Gene was capable of looking adorably confused? She suddenly found herself thinking that she wouldn't mind seeing that bed-head hair every morning.

"Wh…what's going on?" He frowned at her. "Bloody hell, yer in my bed, Bols… Let me just take a moment t' remember this day."

With a mildly annoyed sigh, Alex rolled her eyes and sat up too. She glanced towards the door. "Gene, shut up and listen. I think I can hear Scarlett crying."

A look of seriousness immediately overtook Gene's face, and he turned his head to look intently towards the door. The two of them fell completely silent, and only the sound of distant, muffled sobs and hitched hiccups could be faintly heard.

"Bugger," Gene muttered, pushing back the covers. He was halfway out the bed when he stopped and looked back towards Alex with uncertainty on his face. "Well… what am I supposed t' do? I'm no good at comforting people, Bolly, yer know that. And I'm pretty certain she's crying because of me. She doesn't want me t' help 'er."

"Gene," Alex said softly, moving to kneel on the bed in front of where he was standing. She placed a gentle hand on his chest and gave him a small smile as she looked up at him. Her face was just visible in the near darkness, but once again, Gene found himself stunned by her breath-taking beauty, the openness, the gentleness in her eyes. If things had been different, if he didn't have a fragile fifteen year old daughter just down the hall… There was no doubt that he would be gently pushing her back down onto that bed right now…

Alex bit her lip, glancing down, and then back up again to meet his gaze. "You're her Dad, and she's crying. Forget everything she's done; forget the things she's said to you in anger. Right now, she's your little girl again, and whether she likes it or not, she needs you. And you always go where you're needed."

Gene stared at her for a moment, half in awe of how she always somehow knew the right things to say, and still half unsure of everything happening around him. After a few seconds of silence, he swallowed and gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Yer right, Bols… I'll, err… I'll go."

A faint smile touching her lips, Alex settled back on her heels and watched as Gene made his way from the room, his head peering curiously down the corridor as he moved towards the bathroom. She sat back against the pillows with her knees drawn up under her chin, teeth biting into her lower lip as she decided to just wait it out. She needed to let Gene deal with this on his own now; she couldn't be here twenty-four seven, helping him.

But it was funny… Because there was a niggling thought in the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach that if she _did_ have to be somewhere twenty-four seven, she wouldn't want to be anywhere but here with Gene.

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><p><em><strong>Well, I hope that was okay! Thank you very much for reading, and please review! Also, if you haven't already done so, please, please vote on the poll on my profile – it's important to me. :D Thanks again, and remember, reviews are love!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Hello, my lovelies! Thank you very much for your kind reviews; I really appreciate your comments, and I tried to be as fast as I could with this update! I'm on half term this week, so that's a relief at least, and all my exams are out of the way now, so party time for me! :P Anyway, here's the next chapter, I hope you like it!**_

_**P.S – This chapter is dedicated to Elliewelly1/inalexkingstonshair because she made me very happy with her stalkerish flailings on Tumblr last night! :P **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes, just the boxsets… And me and Jazzola have an agreement for shared custody of Gene. :P **_

_**Chapter 12**_

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><p>As he slowly moved out into the darkened hallway and began to walk towards the bathroom, Gene's heart was in his throat, pounding hard. The sound of Scarlett's sobbing was more distinct now, each heart-wrenching cry punctuated by a ragged gasp or hiccup. Gene paused outside the bathroom door, listening. He felt like every one of his internal organs was twisting and convulsing inside him; he could hear the roar of blood in his ears and when he placed a hand on the door handle, he was surprised to find it was shaking.<p>

Swallowing, his features screwed up in torment as Scarlett's sobs grew louder, her breathing ragged and hysterical, Gene shook himself and tried to keep what Alex had said to him in mind – tried to remember the trusting look on her face, the grace in her open expression and soft persuasion in her eyes. He let out a long, shaky sigh. It took a lot to rattle Gene Hunt, but in that moment, the thought of what was to greet him on the other side of the door scared him shitless. He was out of his depth and trying to swim with no life support.

Bracing himself, Gene gave himself a mental kick to the head and opened the door, stepping just inside the bathroom. And what he saw there in the semi-darkness caused the acid to churn in his stomach and bile to rise up in his throat. His hands clenched into fists without him knowing and a look of pure self-loathing and contempt darkened his expression. His eyes were wide and helpless.

He had done this to her. She was his daughter, his little girl, his own flesh and blood; he was supposed to protect her, look after her. And he had done this to her.

* * *

><p>Hatred and shame coursed through Gene's veins as he stared in horror at the figure of Scarlett hunched up over herself, her back against the side of the bath. Her whole body was shaking violently, racked with sobs as her arms hugged her knees painfully close to her chest and her hands hid her face from view. Bleach blonde hair with too-dark roots was stuck to the sides of her face and neck – a matted tangle of knots, with mascara watered down by tears.<p>

She was a mess. A heaving, quaking wreck of uncontrollable sobs - a broken shell of his little girl, falling to pieces before his very eyes.

If she had heard him come in or noticed him standing there, she didn't show it, and Gene had no idea what to do. He was frozen into place, a self-contained storm of self-hatred and fury raging in his chest. Never in his life had Gene felt as powerless as he did then. How were you meant to put someone back together when you were the one who broke them in the first place?

Scarlett's earlier words swirled around him in the grey darkness, shouting loudly over his own loathing and rage, and conflicting with her desperate, shuddering sobs.

"_You weren't there on my first day o' school, because you didn't give a shit!"_

"…_when I was terrified of dying or something, because I was only _seven years old_, you didn't even want t' turn up to stick some grapes on my bedside table, give me a card, and tell me everything would be okay!"_

"_And _you _didn't do anything…when people started telling me that it were no wonder you'd left, that they wished I was dead and that I should just go 'ang myself, because you _weren't fucking there_!"_

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><p>He was a failure. He already knew he was a failed husband – a failed son, a failed brother. That all went without saying and he had come to accept it. But this. This was the worst failing of them all. Fifteen years ago he had been given this chance, this gift, this opportunity to care about someone – truly, deeply care about and love someone, for the first time in his life, and this was how he had responded. He had fucked it up, had made a mess of it – had made a mess of <em>her<em>. She was his daughter, his little girl… And she was right. He was no father.

A father was meant to take his daughter to school when she was little. A father was meant to visit his daughter in hospital when she was sick and reassure her that everything will be okay. They were supposed to hold their daughters' hands when they're scared or worried. A father was there to look out for and protect his little girl from harm, to tell her not to listen to the bullies and the cruel whisperings at the back of the classroom. He had done none of these things.

For a moment, Gene genuinely thought he was going to be sick. Rage and hatred filled him like it had never filled him before, and an almost overwhelming blow was dealt to his stomach as he nearly doubled over, hot tears stinging in his eyes. He looked desperately at Scarlett, emotions raging in his chest. He wanted to help her, wanted to hold his little girl close and tell her everything was going to be okay, that he would never, ever let her down again. He wanted to kiss her forehead and wipe her tears away and promise to always protect her.

But she wouldn't let him. He knew she wouldn't. She hated him, despised him for abandoning her when she was young and then not being there as she grew older. He had been an idiot, a bastard – married to the drink and the job and not a lot else. He had convinced himself it was better off that way – if he didn't care about his wife and child the way he should do, then they wouldn't care about him, and they would be better off that way. He was poison, and he didn't want to become his own father. It was better that he keep his distance.

_Nonsense_, he could hear Alex saying in his head, and for once he had to admit that she was completely right. It was nonsense. It was idiotic nonsense, and this was the result. He had hurt Scarlett – damaged and caused her pain in the worst ways possible. No-one wanted to feel unloved and uncared for, but that was exactly how he had made her feel. He could see it all so clearly now, and he hated himself for it. Hated himself for the idiotic mind-set of his younger self, hated himself for ignoring his conscience for so many years, hated himself for distancing himself from the one person he could have loved, wholly and completely.

It was simple. Scarlett was his daughter – his little girl, his own flesh and blood. The hair dye and the short skirts and the foul language didn't matter. Right now she was crying and falling apart, barely holding herself together – she needed him, the way she had needed him for the last fifteen years, even if she hadn't wanted him. He hadn't been there – where he should have been.

The least he could do was be here now.

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><p>"Scarlett…" His voice was rough, the syllables barely managing to form properly in the back of his throat as he sank down to the floor beside her. Swallowing, Gene reached out, and for a moment, his hands hovered close to the trembling, sobbing teenager next to him; anxiety flashed across his face, and then he swallowed again and told himself to pull himself together. If she batted him away he would ignore it. If she tried to push him off her he would pull her closer. Because that's what parents were supposed to do.<p>

"Scarlett, sweetheart," he murmured, gently, and slightly tentatively, placing his arms around her. To his surprise, her frame stiffened at the contact, but she didn't pull away. Taking that as a good sign, Gene pulled her closer so that his arms were wrapped tightly around her quaking, hunched up body, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles into her arms.

"Shh…" he whispered, his forehead resting wearily against the top of Scarlett's head, her tangled hair against the side of his face. "I'm sorry, Scarlett… I'm so sorry…"

A loud sob leaped from within Scarlett as she jerked in his arms, her body jumping a little as she hiccupped; Gene's arms tensed around her in response. Tears were still flowing down her face – a never ending stream of devastation as she continued to shake, her breathing irregular and stilted.

"Yer a bastard," she spat out in between two sobs, but still she didn't pull away.

Tightening his hold on her, Gene closed his eyes tight and swallowed in self-contempt. "I know," he sighed, and the words came out as small, beaten breaths of defeat. "I know."

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><p>No matter how deeply she tried to inhale, Scarlett couldn't get her heart rate to steady or her breathing to even out. She kept hiccupping, small sobs still escaping her even as the flow of tears from her red-rimmed eyes started to slow slightly. Her Dad's grip around her was tight, clutching her to him as though scared she might quite literally fall apart if he loosened his hold for just a moment. She could feel his warm, labouring breath against the side of her face and for some reason, after a few minutes, it soothed her. She stopped shaking so much, and found it a little easier to breathe properly… A strange sort of warmth spread throughout her body and whilst it didn't completely thaw the feeling of prickly, red hot ice in her veins, she did feel… Safer. Warmer.<p>

Her face screwed up in agony as she squeezed her eyes tight shut and a few more tears slipped out, rolling solemnly down her face. The sobs had subsided now, and she wasn't shaking now so much as trembling slightly, her breathing shallow rather than erratic. Exhaustion swept through her like a wind, snatching all energy from her and suddenly the effort required to hold herself so rigidly seemed too much, and she relaxed. Her limbs went loose as a small sigh fell from between her lips, and she slumped sideways towards her Dad, turning her head to bury it against his chest.

As a few more tears slipped down her damp cheeks, Scarlett felt her Dad's hold on her tighten as he pulled her closer, his forehead resting gently against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," he murmured, and he sounded utterly defeated and about as exhausted as she felt. "I'm trying…"

She wanted to shout at him again – she wanted to see the pain of failure and self-hatred in his eyes again as she reminded him of how he had hurt her. A small part of her was still fuming, seething in anger, wanting to cause him more pain, cut him with more stinging words and push him away from her. But she couldn't.

In that moment, Scarlett was a little girl again – terrified of the whole world and everyone in it. Her face was sticky with saltwater and her throat dry and hoarse from sobbing. All she wanted was someone to make her feel safe, and here he was, his arms around her, holding her to him as though he was never going to let go ever again. Outside, the sun was rising, and a dim, pre-dawn light was infiltrating the grey darkness of the bathroom. Distantly, she could hear the almost ironically happy beginning of the birds' morning chorus. Sighing, Scarlett made no effort to move and brought a hand up to rest against her Dad's chest, her eyes closing wearily.

Because in that moment, her Dad was sorry. And he didn't even have to say what for – she knew he meant everything. And in that moment, she could very almost, _almost_, forgive him.

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><p><em><strong>I'm a bit nervous about the ending of this chapter, I hope it was okay! They still have a long way to go yet, but I sort of wanted to show both sides kind of calling a truce… Anyway, please review to let me know what you think!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Hello, dearies! :D Wow, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews; you guys are amazing, and I'm so glad you're enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it! :D Anyway, here is the next chapter!**_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – Ashes to Ashes has never been, isn't, and will never be mine. :(**_

_**Chapter 13**_

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><p>Alex hovered silently in the doorway as she watched Gene gently place Scarlett's sleeping form down on the bed. He pulled her covers up with an almost reverent care, every one of his movements slow and tentative, as though he was scared the sound of just his hand moving too quickly through the air might jerk her back into consciousness. Scarlett had fallen asleep in his arms in the bathroom, her face tearstained, body and mind exhausted from crying, and Alex had watched with the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips as Gene had quietly carried his daughter back to bed. It wasn't a sight she had ever thought she'd see, not least because she'd never known that Gene had a child, but Alex took some kind of weird comfort in the idea that if she couldn't be with Molly at the moment, she could at least help another young girl who was probably feeling just as lost and distraught as she was.<p>

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><p>Neither Gene nor Alex spoke until he had slipped back out into the hallway, quietly pulling the door of Scarlett's bedroom to a close. Once he had, he turned to Alex with a weary sigh falling from between his lips.<p>

Alex offered him a small but unmistakeably happy smile. "See?" she whispered, placing a hand on his arm. "You can do this, Gene."

Gene still looked at her a little dubiously, although the smiling encouragement of his DI lifted his spirits a little and this showed in his tired eyes. "Not sure how much more of this I can do though, Bolly. I'm bloody exhausted."

Smiling wryly, Alex dropped her hand from his arm and shrugged slightly. "Welcome to the world of being a parent, Guv." She glanced out of the small window at the top of the stairs to see the faint, weak light of the early dawn sunrise just beginning to show in the sky above the horizon. She looked back at Gene and slipped her hand into his, squeezing slightly; she was stood so close she didn't have to reach for it.

"Come on, let's go back to bed. I'm just as knackered as you are and we've a few more hours left." She made to let go of his hand, but found that his fingers didn't want to relinquish hold of hers. She flickered her gaze up to meet hers, her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty. Feeling her heartbeat quicken in her chest, she frowned ever so slightly, a confused, tentative smile just touching her lips. "Gene?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm coming. Just, err…" He maintained his grip on her hand, holding her gaze with his. "Don't call me Guv, Bolly… Not 'ere… 'Cause…Well yer more than just my DI t' me and… Well, I, yer know…" He trailed off, raising his free hand to rub nervously at the back of his neck. "Yer know, I 'ope that… That I'm more than just yer DCI t' you an' all…" His mouth twisted awkwardly into a slightly wry, depreciative smile. "Unless o' course yer go around helping all yer senior officers out with their personal problems an' sleeping in their beds."

Alex smiled at that as Gene finally let go of her hand as though only just realising that he was still holding onto it. But her pulse was still hammering against her wrist and the implications of what Gene was saying left her scrabbling for the right words for a moment. Eventually though, she smiled and said: "Well, you know me, Gene. Always here to help."

Gene however didn't smile, but instead his jaw seemed to tighten and Alex thought she might have caught just the briefest flash of insecure desperation in his eyes.

"Don't, Bols," he said, and his voice sounded slightly strained to her ears. "I mean it. I don't want yer help if you're only 'ere out of pity or because you feel yer should be because of some kind of obligation – "

"Oh shut up, Gene." Her tone of voice and expression were serious now. "I'm here because you're my friend and because this is what friends do, not because you're my senior officer. Where on earth did you get that idea from?"

Gene looked a little sheepish as he scratched the side of his neck, the usual disgruntled pout finding its way onto his face again. "Sorry," he mumbled, giving her a grim, apologetic smile. "Ignore me, I'm tired an' not thinking straight. Probably look rough as a badger's arse t' boot."

Alex chuckled as they made their way back to Gene's room and the inviting comfort of the double bed. "I can't disagree with you on that one."

"Cheeky tart," Gene muttered, but pulled the covers up over them both just the same.

As Alex shifted back towards him and he tentatively rested a gentle hand on her arm, as though testing the waters, and feeling her relax under his touch, Gene wondered if sleeping in the same bed together, practically in each other's arms, was something people who were just friends did often.

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><p>"Are you sure you'll be okay?"<p>

"Bloody hell, Bolly. Who do yer think you are, my mother?"

Alex bit her lip but smiled, still lingering with her fingers just resting on the handle of the front door. It was eight o'clock in the morning, and she had woken up just twenty minutes earlier to find Gene standing over her, telling her to get her arse back to her flat, changed and into work before he rang the Super and reported her for slacking and shirking her responsibilities as stand-in DCI whilst he was away.

"Well last time I left you two alone all day, she escaped out of the window, Gene, that's all…"

"Yes, and it won't happen again, Bolly, I promise," Gene assured her, sighing in well-meant exasperation. "Bloody hell, even Scarlett promised."

Alex's teeth absently dug a little harder into her lower lip, but with her head slightly on one side, she had to concede that he had a point. Scarlett had been her usual quiet, withdrawn and moody self this morning, and only the absence of the what had been permanent scowl that had previously been etched on her face signalled that perhaps she was starting to consider some kind grudging truce with her Dad, at least, but she had promised not to do anymore 'disappearing acts' on them. She let out a quiet sigh.

"Okay then, well… I'll ring you at lunchtime, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Gene's eyebrows rocketed. "You'll be doing what, Bolly-Kecks?"

She looked back at him, a puzzled frown bringing her eyebrows together. "Well, don't you want me to…?" Trailing off, Alex realised that she didn't really know how to finish the sentence. What exactly did Gene want her to do?

He and Scarlett were making progress now, even if that progress was coming in the form of very tiny baby steps, and she had been saying repeatedly to him that he couldn't rely on her to fix his relationship with her – that at the end of the day, it was down to him and him alone. But suddenly, the thought of simply going home, going to work, and not seeing Gene for the next few weeks unless he rang her, seemed a horribly alien concept to her. And the thought of that scared her. Why did she care so much?

"Well, I…ah…um…" She swallowed, mentally kicking herself for doing what was probably a very good impression of Christopher Skelton crossed with a goldfish from where Gene was standing. "Of course, if you don't want me here or whatever, that's fine, in fact it would probably be better, sorry, I just… I'm on the other end of the phone if you need me."

And with that, with her cheeks burning and before she could say anything else to make her feel even more like an idiot, Alex wrenched the door open and slipped quickly out, shutting it behind her with a long exhalation of breath.

"Nice one, Alex," she muttered to herself as she slid into the driver's seat of the car she had borrowed from the plod cars at Fenchurch East and fumbled with the keys in the ignition. She could feel the heat on the back of her neck as she drove away a little too fast, her hands gripping the wheel tight.

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><p>Alex had only been in CID for ten minutes when the phone rang. She hadn't even got started on briefing the team on their latest case – a small-scale armed robbery on a post office that morning – when the shrill ringing sounded from Gene's desk in his office and for a moment, she didn't realise that it was now her responsibility to pick that phone up.<p>

She had been worrying ever since she left Gene's house that morning, fretting over the blush he must have seen in her cheeks, the wobble in her voice, and the slightly wider look to her eyes. She didn't want him to read too much into what she had said, she hadn't meant… But there her thoughts went back to the beginning again, swerving quite drastically around the glaringly obvious fact that deep down, Alex knew exactly what she had been thinking and what she had meant, and she had meant that she didn't want to leave him.

The reasons for this more intimate attachment, however, she most definitely didn't want to start thinking about in too much depth. Because that would lead to her asking all sorts of questions of herself, and in the back of her mind she knew that the honest answers to those questions would just give her more problems, and that was the last thing she needed.

"You gonna get that, Ma'am?" Shaz asked, looking between her and the phone.

"What?" Alex asked, jumping slightly as she shook herself from her musings. Her eyes alighted on the phone and she got up hastily. "Right, yes, the phone. Sorry, Shaz – was in my own little world for a moment there."

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><p>Swallowing to wet her dry throat, Alex reached out and plucked the phone from its cradle, cutting the ringing sound off abruptly.<p>

"Fenchurch East CID; Detective Inspector Alex Drake speaking."

A low groan sounded from the other end of the line, there was a pause, and then: "Yer really need t' stop answering the phone like that, Bolly. One o' these days the commissioner will be ringing up, I'll be out and you'll pick up the phone and give the poor beggar an 'eart attack."

His name came out in a swift breath. "Gene." Unbeknownst to her, a strange smile of relief spread across her face at the sound of his voice. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up, Bols, everything's fine. I was just ringing t' say… T' say… Well…"

Alex bit her lip, glad that he couldn't see her as she tried not to let her embarrassment over her flustered blabbering that morning show in her voice. "Spit it out, Gene, I do have work to do. You were the one threatening to call the Super this morning to report me for slacking."

"Sorry, Bols… I just wanted t' say that yer welcome t' come back 'ere after you've finished at the station… Y'know… If yer want. I mean, I'm not saying you 'ave to or anything, I'm just saying that if yer want, yer can… Just don't want yer to feel like you _have_ to be helping me twenty-four seven or anything, but if you want to be 'ere I wouldn't say no t'… You… Being 'ere. With me… And Scarlett o' course."

Alex bit down harder on her lower lip, but not because she was embarrassed or worried now, but because she was trying very hard to bite back a laugh. He was doing the exact same thing as she had this morning, and here she had been, worrying that he thought her some kind of deranged idiot! She couldn't hide the happy relief in her voice as she replied to him.

"Of course I'll come, Gene, it's no problem. Do you want me to, err, bring a bag with a few things in or something, so I don't have to keep popping back to the flat?"

She heard him clear his throat a little down the phone. "Yeah, sure, Bols, whatever yer want. But you only 'ave t' come if you're sure, I mean…"

"Gene, it's fine. I want to help, and I can do that much more easily if you don't have to ring up every time you want to ask something, and if I'm not worrying every minute that you might have burnt your hours down. I'll be back about sixish, okay?"

"Right, yep, that's fine, Bolly, yer cheeky mare."

She smiled and turned, ready to put the phone back down, one hand fiddling absentmindedly with the cable. "Okay then, see you later."

"Yeah… See yer later… Oh, and, Bols?"

"Yes?"

There was a pause of static, and then a quiet admission of "Thank you."

The smile on her face widened without her permission and somewhere deep inside her, Alex felt a sort of warmth stirring. Pushing the feeling aside and brushing it off as happiness that Gene trusted her enough to allow her into his home and to help with his daughter, she pulled the phone cradle nearer.

"It's fine, Gene, stop saying thank you. You're welcome. Now piss off."

She heard his deep, throaty chuckle travelling down the line and unwittingly, her smile became a grin as she dropped the phone back into its cradle.

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><p><em><strong>I hope this chapter was okay! I had a few problems with writing that last scene – I'm rubbish with phone conversations – so I hope it came off alright, and please review!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hello, my lovelies. :) Good grief, where to start? First of all, I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter… I'll put a better explanation to everything at the end of the chapter, but yeah basically, this'll be a normal thing for a little while. :) Anyway, I hope you can forgive me, and that you enjoy this chapter, even if it has been a long time coming. **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – Ashes to Ashes is not mine. I mean hell, with my life, you'd be lucky to get an episode once every few months if I did! :P **_

_**Chapter 14**_

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><p>"Long case?" Gene asked when Alex finally arrived back at his house at quarter to seven that evening, a tired look in her eyes that said she was dead on her feet.<p>

She gave him a small smile as she dropped her white leather jacket to drape slightly haphazardly over Gene's black Crombie coat where it hung on the post at the end of the banister. For a brief moment, she was struck by how domesticated that one little sight looked – her jacket, hung over the top of his coat, almost as though they were… Well… She cut her thoughts off before they could wander any further and turned back to Gene.

"Sorry, no, I had to go to my flat to get some things," she held up a small holdall bag for him to see and then deposited it at the bottom of the stairs, "and I went to see a friend."

A frown immediately flicked across Gene's face at that. "A friend?"

Turning back to face him, Alex nodded casually and said, "Yeah, he's someone I met a few months ago. Gene, he and I were talking and – "

Gene interrupted her. "Who is this 'he', Bolly? And where did yer meet him a few months ago?" It was hard to conceal the note of surprise in his voice because, well, Gene had always thought that, well… That Alex didn't really have much of a life outside of the station and… him. But he'd rather die than admit he thought that and see the look of rage come into her eyes. He didn't really want to be on the receiving end of one of her infamous right hooks again.

Supressing the urge to laugh and roll her eyes at the way he had so quickly jumped onto the offense as soon as he found out her 'friend' was male, Alex crossed her arms over her chest and leant her hip against their coats on the end of the banister. "His name's Daniel and I met him whilst I was looking for a book in the library, but I don't see what that's got to with anything. Anyway, he and I were talking about Scarlett and – "

Gene's eyebrows rocketed. "What? See whatever fancy blokes yer like but don't go gossiping about my personal business to 'im! What were yer blabbing about me ter 'im for? "

Alex sighed and felt the urge to laugh again. He would never change. "_Because, _Gene,Daniel is a psychologist. A child psychologist, to be specific. I think he can help Scarlett."

There was a short moment of silence, in which Gene's mouth formed a small 'o' shape before his eyes narrowed at her and he frowned. "Well tell 'im thanks fer the offer but my daughter's not a nutjob, Bols. She just needs some firm handling is all."

A small smile played on Alex's lips as she looked at him kindly. "Psychologists aren't just trained to deal with 'nutjobs', Gene. And that's not the sort of child psychologist Daniel is. He's more of a…therapist, really. And he specialises in teenagers – talks to them, helps them through any issues they might have, tries to help them make sense of things. It could really help Scarlett to have someone on the outside to talk to – someone who isn't going to judge her or react in any way to whatever she might be thinking or feeling."

Gene's eyes narrowed further in suspicion. "He trying t' get into yer knickers, Bolly?"

This time, she did roll her eyes, but didn't glare at him. His protectiveness seemed almost… sweet, all of a sudden, rather than annoying. Dear God… she made a mental note to sort all these ridiculous thoughts out later when she had time.

"I can't believe that's what you're focusing on right now, Gene, when I'm trying to help! But no, he isn't."

Gene looked surprised. But then he never could fathom the existence of any man who _didn't_ take one look at Alex and want her in his bed. The question came out automatically. "Is he gay?"

Shaking her head, she laughed. "No, Gene, he isn't. Is it really so impossible for you to imagine a man being friends with me and _not_ wanting to have sex with me, just because you can't st-" She stopped abruptly, feeling a flush rising in her cheeks. These near brushes really needed to stop. "Anyway," she said, sounding slightly flustered, and Gene was reminded of her strange behaviour that morning, "If you must know, he's married. But if we actually get back to the point of why I'm telling you all this, we were talking and he says, if you're agreeable and if Scarlett agrees too, of course, he'll happily see if he can do anything for her."

Finally satisfied that this 'Daniel' character was married and therefore probably not trying to worm his way into Alex's knickers with his psychology degree and no doubt fancy car and fancy whatever else, Gene relaxed. His mouth settled into its usual thoughtful pout as he considered what Alex was saying.

"So… he would just be someone for 'er t' talk to? He wouldn't be examining her 'ead and looking for signs of madness or whatever else it is you fruitcakes do?"

Alex nodded and smiled, but she was inwardly quite surprised that Gene was even considering Daniel's offer. She had expected an instant no and some sort of muttered comment about not letting thatcherite wankers with posh degrees anywhere near his flesh and blood, but then Alex was coming to learn that there were many layers to the enigma that was Gene Hunt, and she was only just beginning to peel back a few of them. She supposed that, the way he saw it, if something was going to help someone he loved, then he didn't really mind.

"Like I said, he's a sort of therapist, and a very good one at that. He might be able to help her open up in a way she won't completely to you yet, because there's too much water under the bridge, and I know she won't tell me much of what's going on in her head because she knows I'd just pass it onto you, so… I really do think a few sessions with Daniel could help her, if she agrees to see him."

Gene pouted again and rubbed the side of his neck. "I'll think about it, Bolly, yeah? How about we both talk t' Scarlett about it in the morning. She's sleeping now… Or at least she was when I last checked. Think she's still exhausted…"

A bright smile came to Alex's face to ease away the look of worry that had dawned on his. "Sounds like a good plan to me, Gene," she said, and carried on looking at him, smiling.

Unnerved by the way she was just looking at him and smiling, Gene met her gaze. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just… I'm just proud of you, I suppose," she told him softly, her gaze dropping as she laughed to herself. "God, I bet you never expected me to say anything like that to you."

"Not really, no, Bols," Gene chuckled, looking at her perplexed. Would she ever cease to amaze and surprise him? "What 'ave I done now?"

Alex smiled again, and there was almost a hint of wryness to the curve of her lips as her eyes danced with amusement. "You acted like an adult, no, scratch that, like a _parent_. It's astounding to watch, truly."

"Cheeky mare," Gene shot at her, but the words didn't cut and weren't meant to.

"I mean it, Gene," she said, her voice softer, quieter, this time. She took a small step towards him. "You put someone else before your own opinions and prejudices and… I don't think I've ever really seen you do that so… So naturally, without hardly thinking."

Gene looked back at her for a moment, searching her gaze for something he couldn't decipher. There was a look in her eyes, on her face, that he knew he had seen before, but he couldn't place it. It didn't belong on her face, yet at the same time it did. His head hurt from trying to work out, so in the end he just allowed the corner of his lips to quirk up and he chuckled again.

"Yer a fruitcake, Bolly, yer know that?"

She smiled. "I know that."

Then before Alex knew what was happening, he had put his arms around her and pulled her close. Her head was buried against his shoulder, his scent infiltrating her sinuses and filling her up, causing her eyes to close of their own accord. An absent smile played confusedly on her face as they hugged, two close figures in the dim light of his hallway.

"What was that for, Gene? Two hugs in two days… If I didn't know better I'd say you were going soft."

"Me? Soft?" Gene scoffed, looking at her with mock reproach as he released her, his arms falling back down at his sides and body mourning the loss of contact without him knowing it.

"Hm… Or maybe you've always been soft, underneath," Alex mused thoughtfully, a slight sparkle in her eye as she stood back and surveyed him. "Well I'll just have to peel back a few more of your layers to find out, Mr Hunt."

He wasn't really quite sure what she was talking about, but the Lord knew he'd long since got used to her not making any sense when she babbled on with that faraway look in her eye. So he merely quirked an eyebrow upwards at her and said: "Peel back a few of my layers? Are you looking t' undress me, Bols? Because yer can buy me a drink first before yer do."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Gene." She swatted his arm with her hand as she made to go past him with her bag, but her tone was more teasing than truly annoyed. "Do you ever drag your mind out of the gutter long enough for you to actually appreciate me as a friend?"

Gene watched as she turned from him with a well meant sigh to make her way upstairs and as he did so, a wry smile came unbidden to his lips. Because yes, he thought, he did appreciate her. More than she would ever know, and more than he would ever care to let her know. Good heavens, maybe he was turning soft… His eyes widened imperceptibly at the very thought.

The Gene Genie turning soft? Over a bloody woman, and a crackers one at that? Hell would freeze over and Scarlett would be in modest jeans and have ginger hair again by the time that happened.

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><p><em><strong>I'm sorry this chapter didn't really have any Scarlett in! I've just been wanting Alex and Gene to have that conversation for ages, and thought it went best here. I promise Scarlett will be in the next chapter though! Thank you very much for reading, and please so review to let me know what you think! :D<strong>_

_**X :D**_

_**P.S – Okay… explanation as to why this chapter took so long coming and why the next few might be spaced quite far apart… It's just I've started revision for my final GCSE exams now, so I'm finding myself a little bogged down with work and pretty busy. I promise I won't disappear off the face of the earth or anything, but just so you know why if updates take quite a few weeks or something! You know I'd never abandon you, I just hope you can stick it out with me! Once my exams are over, I'll have all the time in the world to write fanfiction, which is something I can't wait for! :P **_

_**Also, just to quickly say I'll soon be changing by penname. I feel like I'm growing out of XTimeGirlX a little bit, so I'm just waiting to post this little note at the end of all my in progress stories so that everyone knows about the change. But yeah, I'll be changing to 'Eleantris' soon, which is sort of a play on my real name. :)**_

_**But that's about all, I think! Again, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review! **_

_**X :D**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Hello, dear readers, remember me? :) The revision is going well and I've found some time to get this chapter written – I hope you enjoy it. Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and understanding about my exams and things last chapter, I really really appreciate it! **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes… You'd think after writing this many stories I might get a share, but no! :P**_

_**Chapter 15**_

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><p>It was overcast outside; a cover of murky, indistinguishable grey seemed to be covering all of London, or certainly at least the area where Gene lived, and despite it being morning, Alex had flicked on the light in the kitchen to give the room a feeling of warmth as she boiled the kettle.<p>

An absent smile played on her lips as she dropped teabags into two mugs and pulled the sugar bowl towards her. She fished a teaspoon out from the cutlery draw, steam starting to whistle from the kettle, and wondered what the others might say if they could see her in that moment. She had certainly never thought she'd find herself in this situation – downstairs in Gene's kitchen, making them both a morning cup of tea whilst he continued sleeping upstairs, oblivious to the world.

Alex's smile widened a little. She had woken just ten minutes earlier to see Gene curled up into his pillow, hair messy and boyish about his face, mussed up by the covers, and a peaceful pout on his lips. When he slept, all the lines seemed to relax around his eyes and mouth, the bliss and quiet of unconsciousness taking ten years off of him. She didn't like to consciously admit it to herself, but Alex couldn't help but think that it really wasn't a bad sight to wake up to every morning. Of course, they'd have to talk about her sleeping on the sofa or something at some point. They couldn't keep sharing a bed like this, it wasn't…

She sighed. That was exactly the problem. It wasn't…what? Proper? Appropriate? The 'done thing'? Alex wasn't really sure anymore. It seemed like, since Scarlett's arrival, some line between her and Gene had become blurred and crossed, only she wasn't sure exactly when or how, and she didn't really know what that line was, just that it had been breached, and there was somehow no going back from where they were now. Whatever that was.

Colleagues? No, a colleague doesn't move into another colleague's house, share their bed and help them with their troubled teenage daughter. Friends? Hmm…maybe. She felt like Gene's friend, at least… But she also felt… She wasn't sure.

Swallowing, Alex lifted the kettle and poured the boiling water over the teabags, setting it back down heavily on its stand with a sigh. Unbidden, her teeth sank into her lower lip as she stirred the contents of both mugs, watching as the tea slowly leaked out of the bags and turned the water a rich brown colour, steam rising from them, smelling like heaven. She and Gene were friends, yes.

So why was it that labelling their relationship as a 'friendship' didn't feel right somehow? Almost like it didn't quite cover what they had…

"You'll stir all the heat out of them if yer not careful."

Alex about jumped a mile. Her fingers splayed and dropped the spoon they were holding as her head snapped towards the door, musings forgotten. When she saw who was stood there, she relaxed, breathing evenly again.

"Scarlett," she said, giving the teenage girl a small, quick smile. "Sorry, I was miles away." Hesitating, she looked at Scarlett, taking her in.

She was still in her pyjamas – a faded hoodie pulled on over whatever t-shirt she wore to bed, bleach damaged hair scraped back into a ponytail. Her face was still too pale, her eyes still a little tired maybe, but the circles beneath them weren't as prominent as before, and the stony look she usually wore was softened slightly into something that more resembled apprehension than mistrust. She was lingering in the entrance to the kitchen, one hand nervously resting on the doorframe as though ready to flee at any minute if necessary. Alex guessed she had been expecting to find Gene, not her, down here.

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><p>Eventually, Alex spoke again. "How… How are you?"<p>

"Fine, yeah…um… Okay, I guess." She shrugged, and it almost amused Alex to see that Gene's daughter deflected personal questions in pretty much the same way as he did. Scarlett's gaze flickered to the tea on the countertop and she nodded towards them. "Can I 'ave one of those?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Alex said, opening the fridge to retrieve the milk. "How do you like it?"

Scarlett looked surprised - almost like someone offering to do something for her was a new concept. Or perhaps she was just surprised that it was Alex who had offered. "Oh, um…A little bit of milk, lots of sugar…I usually put about four in."

And then, to Alex's surprise, she smiled. It was a very brief smile, albeit – just a quick, sheepish quirk of the lips, but a small smile nonetheless. Alex smiled in return – widely and warmly, and set about adding the milk and sugar to the tea.

"You have it exactly the same way as your Dad does. Here you go." She handed the steaming mug over to the teenage girl, and then added some milk and one sugar to the other one. Leaning back against the countertop so that she was still facing Scarlett, she took a deep drink and looked at her over the rim of the mug.

"He's still asleep, so I guess he can wait for his tea." She smiled slightly, because she wasn't really sure what else she was supposed to say or do, and went back to drinking her tea. Scarlett did the same.

A few minutes passed in silence – uncomfortable silence at first, the void empty and awkward, but it grew more normal after a few seconds, a sort of companionable silence in which the only sound was the small noise their lips made as they sipped their tea. Alex knew that the best way to make Scarlett feel comfortable enough to open up a little more was to say little or nothing at all in the way of prompting; no-one likes to talk when someone is so obviously eager for them to.

And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence had passed, Scarlett asked quietly: "How long 'ave you been working with 'im? Since he came down 'ere?"

Alex looked up at Scarlett and lowered her cup of tea, set it down on the counter. "No… No, he was here when I arrived… I've been here about…Nearly ten months now, I think, roughly." She smiled, glancing down at the floor and then back up again. "I was at this party on a boat, working undercover, and then later something happened, I'm not sure what… But some uniformed police turned up and this man, Markham – a nasty piece of work if there ever was one – decided to put an arm around my neck and a gun to my head. I don't know why or how but he seemed to think I'd called the police… I didn't really know what was going on at the time…"

Alex paused, and Scarlett noticed a kind of faraway look come into her eyes as she smiled, picking her tea back up again and taking a sip.

"I thought I was going to die…"

"So what happened?"

Scarlett looked surprised at herself that she had asked the question, just for a brief second, before she refocused her curious gaze on Alex, hands wrapped around the mug she was holding, as though she was drawing comfort and confidence from it as well as warmth.

Smiling, Alex leant back more against the counter, gaze lifting from the depths of her own mug to look back at the teenage girl stood across from her.

"There was a screech of tires," she said, and the barely-there, faraway smile was audible in her voice as well as visible on her face and in her eyes. "A flash of red in the distance, growing nearer… Your Dad's Quattro came screaming to a halt in front of me and then out he got, all dark shades, crocodile skin boots and witty threats. He saved my life, though you wouldn't have caught me admitting it at the time."

"You didn't like him." It was a statement, not a question, as Scarlett placed her now empty mug back down onto the counter. She was leant against the doorframe now, though she didn't know when she had moved into that position to be more comfortable, to face Alex properly as they talked. But a part of her was too tired to scowl, too worn out and fed up to glare. What was the point anyway? None of this was Alex's fault – this woman had nothing to do with any of it, really. She hadn't done anything to her. And her Dad…

"Not at first, no," Alex said, chuckling and knocking back the rest of her tea. "Good God, I think I actually hated him for a little while. I soon changed my mind though, as time went by… I don't know, I just... I began to see the other sides to him, the man behind the tough exterior he wears like armour… I realised that I'd judged him before I truly got to know him, and we… Well, we became friends, I suppose… Or I wouldn't be here now."

She smiled, and there was a short pause. A static, hesitant pause, and then:

"You love him."

Again, it was a statement. Not a question.

"I…Wh-…No…I…Well, n-…You-… What?"

Alex stared at Scarlett, eyes suddenly wide and stunned, eyebrows arched in what could be described as subtle panic. And Scarlett merely looked back at her, face blank as a sheet, but on closer inspection, a tiny glint was visible in her eyes, a small spark of life that hadn't been there before. It was stubborn, challenging, a little frightening perhaps, but nonetheless there – a sign of mischief, of humour.

"Where on Earth did you get that idea from?" Alex asked, once she had regained the ability to form a coherent sentence again. She felt slightly winded, like all the breath had been snatched from her lungs, and she needed to breathe deeply to get it back again. Why was her heart thudding in her chest, her stomach churning all of a sudden?

Shrugging dismissively, Scarlett bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "I dunno, you just… The way yer talk about 'im, and…well, no offence, but the fact that you're here. I don't really see what I've got t' do with you but yer still trying to help me, so it must not be that you want to help me as such, but that you want to help my Dad."

Alex frowned, then widened her eyes, then frowned again. "Yes-no, but…" She was too confused to fully process what was being said. "That doesn't mean I love him, good grief. Your Dad and I are friends – colleagues. That's all. I'm a psychologist; I have some experience with teenagers… I just want to help. Your Dad _and_ you, that means, and…. We're having a conversation, aren't we? So I know you're not as bad and mouthy as you must like to make out sometimes."

The tables turned, Scarlett immediately dropped her gaze to the floor, chewing her bottom lip for a second without knowing it. "Yeah, well… Whatever. I just… I'm not going t' be rude to yer… Yer haven't done anything to me. Well, err, thanks fer the tea anyway, Alex."

The frown returned to Alex's face again as she watched Scarlett make to leave the kitchen, her heart still thudding a little in her chest, scared, worried. About what?

"Oh, um, okay… Well you're welcome, Scarlett. And remember what I said, okay? I know you're not a bad person at all, I know you don't want to be surly and rude with everyone all the time, not really. Especially not with your Dad. You know he really is sorry. For everything."

"Huh," Scarlett said, pausing as she turned to leave. She then muttered something under her breath that Alex didn't catch. Turning back to face her a little again, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the ponytail. "Well, you too."

"Me too?"

Scarlett nodded once. "Remember what I said."

"Oh… Wait, what?"

But the teenage girl had already gone – disappeared back upstairs, a shadow of avoidance and mystery. Alex was left standing in the kitchen, clutching her empty tea mug, wondering what had just happened.

Well… that had been a sign of progress, at least, she supposed.

She just wasn't sure what kind of progress she was thinking of anymore, and whose progress it was. Scarlett's… Or hers?

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><p><em><strong>Hm, well I don't know about you for reading, but I quite enjoyed writing that, so I hope it was okay. :) It just feels good to have written something after not actually writing anything in a while. I know my updates do sometimes take a while anyway, even without exams, but then I am usually doing a little bit of original or poetry writing in between times… But this is the first time I've written anything in weeks, so it felt good! :) I hope you liked it, and please review to tell me your thoughts!<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Can I just say that you guys are awesome? Thank you so much for the continued support and reviews – I'm glad you're all still enjoying this story, despite the update delays! Anyway, read on, I hope you enjoy the chapter! :D**_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – Nope, still don't own anything…*sigh* :P**_

_**Chapter 16**_

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><p>Scarlett's pen was flying across the page at an alarming rate, the movement of her fingers almost frantic in their purpose as she covered the white paper in black strokes. The drawing was at the stage where no-one but she could tell what it was – she was only sketching out the background – but anyone could tell that this drawing was different. The others in the book – the ones she had been furiously scribbling when she first arrived in London and even before that – were crafted with harsh, thick lines, pressed into the page like deep, ink-filled veins. But this one…this drawing was different. Her pen only brushed the page, leaving light strokes that she would define later. But none of them possessed the anger of before.<p>

A hesitant, but clear knock sounded at the door, and Scarlett looked up as it opened. Instinctively shoving her sketch book and pen under the duvet beside her, she watched as her Dad entered the room and moved to stand just inside the door. His gaze was serious, the blue eyes steely – but when had they ever not been? Even when he laughed there was still that hardness about him, that tough, rough around the edges exterior that never melted away. Not that Scarlett had many memories of her Dad laughing; she'd been too young to know that she needed to store them away. Because what little girl ever even contemplates the idea that her Daddy might not always be there for her?

She looked back at him blankly, her expression not hostile, but giving nothing away.

"So…err…" Gene lifted a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck, and then dropped it again. Scarlett seemed to be watching him expectantly now that he had spoken and he wasn't really sure where to start. Sighing softly, he picked up a cardigan that she had dumped on a chair in the corner of the room, then picked the chair up and placed it down closer to where Scarlett was sat, cross-legged on her bed, leant back against the wall. He sat down, hesitated for a moment and then:

"Me an' Alex 'ave been talking, and…"

"Yer think I should go see some psycho-babble bloke," Scarlett finished for him, speaking candidly. "A therapist or whatever."

Surprised, Gene frowned at her. "Last night, you were – "

"Eavesdropping," she finished again, pointedly, and when Gene looked back up at her again, he could have sworn she looked almost…amused? "You were jealous," she added, and there it was – a smirk.

Bloody hell. And Gene had thought she would go mad when he brought up Alex's idea with her.

"Hold up a moment," he said, feeling like he must be missing something when he met Scarlett's calm, relaxed gaze. "I thought yer'd be angry at me fer suggesting yer see a therapist – I was expecting shouting and screaming, at least."

Scarlett's gaze dropped down to find a loose thread on her pyjama bottoms near the knee and began absentmindedly pulling at it. "Yeah well… there's not much point, is there? An' I didn't like the sound of at first – same as you didn't, but…" She trailed off, pouting moodily.

"But?" Gene pushed, still feeling wary. He was amazed at how easy this seemed now. Where was the catch, the protests, the stroppy insults?

"Well…" Scarlett paused, still toying with the loose thread as she appeared to be working out what to say. It was weird - this feeling that had descended over her since that night in the bathroom, when her Dad had felt like…well, her Dad again. She felt calm, more peaceful, she supposed. Not quite ready to completely forgive and forget and play happy families just yet, but…open to the idea of that one day, maybe. It depended.

"Scarlett?"

"Well…" She looked up at her Dad and met his gaze, her fingers letting the loose thread at her knee alone.

"Look, Dad… I'm not saying I want t' forget everything, move on an' sing ging-gang-gooli-gooli round the campfire with yer quite yet, because, well…yer know… But this talking t' someone thing… I can try that…maybe?"

Gene couldn't hide his shock. Yes, her words and the hard shield still in her eyes said that all wasn't well yet, but they were getting there. Slowly. He couldn't believe it, and God knew he would never forgive himself for abandoning her for as long as he lived. The guilt still made him feel sick. This was his _daughter_. Shit. She was his _daughter_. His. She deserved better than him – better than the bastard he had been. And in that moment, Gene was determined to be better. He wasn't going to be cowardly or selfish anymore. And Alex… He would explain to Alex. Everything.

"Yer…yer want to give it a go?"

Scarlett looked indecisive still – a little unsure, and it was clear that she had never imagined she'd ever be agreeing to something with her Dad. But she looked determined too, willing to try. It was a start. So looking up at her Dad again, she smiled ever so slightly and nodded.

"Yeah… 'Cos… Alex, she knows what she's talking about, doesn't she? Even if she is a bit posh an' annoying. She's alright."

Gene couldn't help but smile slightly, and the brief quirk of his lips wasn't lost on Scarlett. "Yeah," he said. "She's alright."

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><p>Bloody hell, she was killing him.<p>

The fact that Alex Drake looked (and sounded, for that matter) like the sexiest thing on earth whenever she was talking on the phone was something Gene had realised a long time ago. In fact, he had probably known it from the first time he ever saw her make a phone call at the station, but he had never ever failed to be mesmerised by the way her deft fingers would absentmindedly fiddle with the cord as she spoke, the way she'd bite down on her lower lip as she listened to whoever was on the other end, and the way she'd nod her head every now and then, lips slightly pouted, smooth and moist and utterly irresistible.

_She_ was irresistible.

"Okay, thank you so much again, Daniel. It'll be a real help. We'll see you then."

_Snap out of it, Genie boy._ Gene jumped slightly, standing up straight again as Alex put the phone down and turned back around to face him fully. He tried to shake the wandering thoughts from his head and put his mind back on track – tried to think about anything except how bloody gorgeous she was and how she was stood just a few metres away and how they'd probably be sharing his bed again that night and… It was impossible. She really was going to be the death of him, and they weren't even… Not that they ever would be, probably.

"So what'd he say then, Bols?"

Alex smiled at him. "Well he's all booked up tomorrow, but he's got some slots free on Saturday, so Scarlett's got an appointment for eleven o'clock. Is that okay?"

Gene nodded and absently rubbed the back of his neck again, thinking. "Yeah, an' then maybe me and you can…go somewhere. And talk?"

"Talk?"

His gaze dropped down for a moment, the familiar pout finding its way onto his lips. "Yeah. Talk, Bols." He glanced back up at her, smirking now. "Yer know that thing you're so good at?"

"Oh ha-bloody-ha, Gene." Alex whacked his arm as she moved past him into the kitchen, needing another cup of tea, but there wasn't nearly as much force in the slap as there usually was. Once she'd flicked the kettle on and taken down two mugs, knowing he'd want one too without having to ask, she turned back to look at him again. "But in all seriousness, Gene, what is it you want to talk about?"

She had a good idea what he might have in mind and no. She wasn't ready to discuss _that _yet. If there even was a _that_. Because there wasn't, was there? They were colleagues, friends. She liked it that way. So did he, probably.

But all Gene did was shrug in reply and open the fridge to retrieve the milk, handing it to her before reaching for the sugar bowl and a spoon. "Just about stuff, Bolly, yer know… About Scarlett and stuff."

Deciding that there was no point in asking him just what 'and stuff' entailed, Alex huffed out a sigh and picked up the kettle as it finished boiling. "Sure, Gene. That's fine. But we might as well use the time to stop by my flat as well; I still need some things, and we need to sort out proper sleeping arrangements too. I can't keep hogging half your bed for the next however many weeks."

At her words, Gene felt two emotions instantaneously. The first was elation – an almost unexplainable joy at the fact that she intended to stay living with him for weeks, maybe even a few months. He didn't want to think too deeply about why the idea of that made him so happy. But the second was disappointment – a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of not being able to fall asleep every night and wake up every morning with her in his bed. True, they had literally just been sleeping, but… She was Alex Drake. And it was his bed. And he was a fool if he was going to deny that that didn't please him.

But…other sleeping arrangements? His house wasn't exactly big; there wasn't really anywhere else for her to go. Not if she wanted a decent night's sleep, anyway. But, he supposed, he shouldn't have expected their bed-sharing as 'friends' arrangement to last long. Whilst he might get a kick out of that, he was sure she didn't. She probably wanted to get away from that particular situation as soon as possible. He couldn't blame her.

"Err…Well, I can take the sofa if you want, Bols. All you 'ad to do was say."

"No, no, don't be ridiculous, Gene. No-one could get a good night's sleep on that if they tried – it's tiny. Besides, it's your bed and your room. I'm not going to push you out. But I was thinking we could somehow get the mattress from the bed in my flat and there's room for it in the living room. We can just stand it up against the wall during the day?"

So that was it then. Just two more nights, and then there would be no more waking up to her sleep-infused, grumpy smiles in the morning before she had fully woken up, no more bedhead Bolly or 'accidental' brushes of skin in the night. Gene tried to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his heart as he nodded as casually as possible.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan, Bols."

Alex turned back to finishing off the two cups of tea, smiling and trying not to think of how she was ever so slightly disappointed that he hadn't protested her mattress idea.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh I'm such a cockblocker, aren't I? :P But don't worry, I promise the nightly separation won't last long… I mean, would *you* be able to sleep on a mattress downstairs just knowing Gene Hunt was upstairs in his bed? :P Hehe, anyway, I hope this chapter was okay and please review! :D<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Hi everyone! So I know I promised a couple of you in person that this chapter would be here sooner than this, but I tried my best, I promise! I hope you enjoy it anyway. **_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. :D**_

_**Chapter 17**_

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><p>She could feel his warm breath brushing and bathing the back of her neck, sending both shivers and shots of flame down her spine as goose-bumps rose on her skin. Exhaling, Alex felt every muscle in her body relax as the strong arm around her waist pulled her further back, her body tucking in closely against his like the two of them had been designed specifically to fit together – each of them the other's missing puzzle piece.<p>

She could feel the warmth of his chest against her back now; he was holding her tight against him, an arm wrapped around her slim waist, anchoring her to him. A sleepy smile made its way onto Alex's face; an anchor, that was what he was – the only thing that made sense in this world. He was _hers_. Her constant.

Just then, she felt him shift against her, the wash of warm breath that had been at her neck moving to her shoulder. She felt the hand at her waist move to drape over her hip, his fingertips lightly caressing the soft skin there with almost absentminded, lazy care.

Alex froze as she felt his teasing fingertips slowly move southwards, pushing at the top lace edge of her knickers to discover the gentle dip between her hipbone and thigh. Her breath caught in her throat, eyelashes fluttering as he pressed his lips to her shoulder and left a trail-blaze of kisses up towards where her shoulder became her neck.

Her whole body was alight with sensation, her blood running both fiery hot and ice cold at his touch. She shivered as his hand slipped back up to her waist, and then to her ribcage, and almost involuntarily she found herself arching her back, pressing herself back into him. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt his fingers splay possessively over her ribs and his lips press firmly to her shoulder again. She wanted…no, _needed_ him closer, needed him to… But she lost her train of thought as his breath came to wash the tender spot just behind her ear with warmth; he smelt of toothpaste and safety, and then he was kissing her jaw and murmuring to her:

"Good morning, love."

_Mmm_. She rather liked the sound of that. Smiling sleepily, Alex shifted in his arms, rolling over to face him as her eyelids fluttered open –

* * *

><p>"Bolly! Bolly! Bloody buggering hell, Bols. Wake up!"<p>

Alex woke with a start, eyes flying open as she gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed. "Wh-what?"

She looked around, confused, her body feeling impossibly cold all of a sudden. Gene was sat perched on the other side of the bed, and her arms were wrapped around a pillow, holding it close to her chest as if her life depended on it. A sinking feeling filled her as she realised, disappointment seeping in to her consciousness. It had been a dream, just a silly little ridiculous dream – a fantasy. Nothing more.

"You were away with the fairies, Bols," Gene said, standing up now that she was awake. He crossed over to where her bag was in the corner of the room and crouched down, his back to her. "Thought I was going t' have to kiss yer awake like Sleeping bleedin' Beauty, and wouldn't have 'ave been an unpleasant way t' be woken up?"

He stood up straight again and turned back to her, flinging a pair of jeans and a blue shirt onto the bed. "Here, yer best get dressed, sleepy head. Scarlett's got 'er appointment with that psycho-bollocks friend of yours in 'alf an hour, so unless yer want t' be late I suggest you get yer knickers on, Bolly."

Gathering that she must have overslept and feeling her cheeks flush as she realised why, Alex nodded and reached for the clothes. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"S'alright, Bols. Nice dream was it?"

Alex's eyes widened. _Shit_… She hadn't…? Oh God, she hadn't moaned in her sleep or anything, had she? Panic rose up inside her as she tried to look back at Gene and asked, as innocently as possible: "What?"

Gene only shrugged. "Well whatever it was, it 'ad you grinning like the Cheshire Cat on LSD."

Alex couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her at that – she couldn't even bring herself to roll her eyes at the awful as ever simile. She'd only been grinning – she could have been dreaming about rainbows and teddy bears for all he knew. She looked up at Gene and smiled slightly. Softly, the words had left her mouth before she could stop them.

"It was, yes… It was a nice dream."

"Err…right. Fine, okay, Bols. Well you get dressed and I'll see yer downstairs then."

"Okay."

He was just about to leave when he paused at the door and looked back. "Oh, and Bols?"

"Yes?"

"Next time yer want something to cuddle, don't steal my pillow." He smirked at her, but before Alex could even open her mouth to respond, he had slipped out the door, closing it as he went. A second later, the pillow hit it with a dull thud and from the other side, a chuckle could be heard.

Alex let out a loud groan, slumping back down onto the mattress and passing a hand over her face.

Why on earth was she having dreams like _that_ about _Gene Hunt_?

* * *

><p>Gene looked around the small waiting area outside Alex's friend Daniel's, or 'Dr Wright's', as it said on the door, office. The carpet was the same flat, nondescript grey that could only be expected of hospital clinics, and the walls were a sickeningly boring off-white colour that made the whole place seem surreal. There were a couple of hard plastic chairs placed directly opposite the office door and a green pot plant sat beside them, looking decidedly worse for wear and sorry for itself.<p>

He felt uneasy, bringing Scarlett here, despite Alex's assurances that this Daniel friend of hers was no psycho-analysis, but took on more the role of a therapist – someone to talk to and work things out with. Still, it felt wrong bringing his daughter to a hospital clinic to see a psychologist – like he was somehow suggesting there was something wrong with her. But… she had said she _wanted_ to come, and had even given him the tiniest of grudging smiles at the time so… that had to count for something, right?

Gene sighed, glancing at Scarlett worriedly. But she was sat in one of the uninvitingly plastic chairs, seemingly staring vacantly at the ground, the sleeves of her jacket drawn down over her hands. He couldn't help the achingly familiar pang of guilt that sliced through him every time he looked at her, every time he saw the lost expression in her eyes, masked by anger and apathy, and every time he heard the hardness in her voice, the determination to be seen as strong and confident. She was fifteen for heavens' sake, and his _daughter_. And he had failed her. Hell, he was failing her even now, bringing her to some child psychologist to talk to when it was supposed to be _him_ she could talk to. That was what fathers were supposed to do, wasn't it? Make their daughters feel safe; make them feel like they could fix anything for them?

He supposed, Gene thought, with a twist of self-loathing, that it wasn't as easy as all that if as a father, you were the one who had had a hand in breaking your daughter in the first place.

But he was thinking negatively now, spiralling down into that dark pit of self-hatred where he couldn't get past the fact that he was to blame for this. Alex had told him, however subtly, over and over again, that in order for Scarlett to forgive him, he had to forgive himself. Or at least try. He couldn't keep beating himself up over it.

Swallowing, Gene took his hands out of his pockets and ran a hand through his hair. _Alex_. He honestly didn't know how he would be able to cope with all this without her; she was… there weren't words to describe how grateful he was to have her around. And it almost made him laugh to think how appalled he would have been at that thought back when she had first arrived in his world, seeming to him to be nothing more than a posh, toffee-nosed cow with airs and graces above her station. Well, she was still a posh, toffee-nosed cow with airs and graces above her station, but she was so much more now too. He owed her, he thought, more than he had ever owed anyone in his life. But first and foremost, he owed her an explanation.

Gene wasn't looking forward to his talk with Alex, but he'd brought it up with her now and he knew she wasn't going to forget it that easily. He didn't like getting things off his chest, it wasn't his thing; and he liked even less the sort of conversation where he had to bare his soul, be open and honest and admit he did something wrong. Several things wrong, in this case. He remembered the look he had caught in her eye when Scarlett first arrived, when she found out that he had not spoken to his own daughter for years, had left her alone without him.

Alex had looked at him like…not like he was a monster, but like he reminded her of someone, someone she didn't want to be reminded of. Gene never wanted her to look at him like that again, never wanted to see that small glimmer of distrust and resentment in her eyes, glazed with tears. But what he had to say to her today, once Scarlett was in her appointment, the explanation he owed her… it just might make her look at him like that. And he was not looking forward to it one bit.

* * *

><p>"Scarlett Hunt?"<p>

A quiet voice woke Gene from his musings and both he and Scarlett looked up at the same time to see a young man, possibly late thirties, emerging from the office. He turned to Gene first, extending a hand to him.

"Mr Hunt… Gene, I believe? Alex has told me a lot about you." He smiled politely, and Gene oddly decided that he quite liked Daniel Wright, even if he was a little too softly-spoken and middle class for his usual liking. He seemed polite and friendly though, respectful – not up himself, but instantly easy to get along with. He shook his hand.

"Yeah, hi," he replied, a little gruffly, gaze darting to look at Scarlett, who had stood up now. Her expression was as unreadable as ever, but Gene thought he might just be able to detect a slight shyness in the way she was standing, all her weight on one leg as she looked at Daniel expectantly.

Daniel turned slightly to face her, an amiable smile on his face as he held out his hand to her too. "And you must be Scarlett, then. Hi."

Scarlett looked at his outstretched hand, a little surprised, and even glanced briefly towards Gene as though looking for something. What, he wasn't sure. But then she looked back at Daniel, and the corner of her lips curved up just ever so slightly into a very small, faint smile. "Hi."

"Okay, well," Daniel said, shaking her hand and using his free one to push his glasses further up his nose. "Shall we get started then?" He stood back, gesturing openly for her to make her way into his office. "After you."

"Okay, I'll… Well I'll see yer in a bit, Scarlett, yeah?"

Scarlett looked toward her Dad, biting her lip slightly, and then nodded. "Yeah, okay. See yer then."

* * *

><p>Alex was waiting in the Quattro outside and Gene let out a long sigh as he dropped down into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut behind him and resting his head against the steering wheel.<p>

"Everything alright, Gene?"

Gene swallowed and kept his head down against the steering wheel for a few more seconds, taking a couple of deep breaths in. When he did finally lift his head back up to look at Alex, it was hard to miss the worry in his eyes, the anxiety readable in the clenched line of his jaw.

"This… This is the right thing t' do, isn't it, Bols? Letting 'er speak to 'im?"

Alex gave him a small smile and reached to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Gene, trust me, it can't do her any harm. And if she even said she wanted to give it a go, then you have to let her give it a go."

"But do yer think it'll help?"

She smiled again. "Gene, I know you don't store much faith in what you call this 'psycho-bollocks shit', but it really can do the world of good for some people. And I don't see why it shouldn't help Scarlett come to terms with a few things." She paused, still smiling, then gave his arm a small squeeze. "Trust me."

Some of the tension in Gene's jaw eased away at that and he nodded, pushing the car keys into the ignition. "I do, Bols," he said, glancing over at her as he put the Quattro in gear. "I do."

Trying to tame the small smile that was threatening to split into a grin all over her face, Alex settled back in her seat and clipped her seatbelt into place. _He trusted her._

"Good. It'll all be fine, you'll see. Now come on, let's go get that mattress."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well that's all for now, I'm afraid! Next chapter's going to be a biggie, as you'll get that all important 'talk' between Alex and Gene… I know what it's about, and Gene knows what it's about, and you might have worked out exactly what it is he wants to say… But we'll have to see! :P I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review! Your comments really do brighten my revision filled days. :D<strong>_

_**X :D**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Hello, my dears! Well would'ya look at this speedy update? Oh shush, it's speedy for me. :P Well I hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review! I really appreciate all your comments, both the praise and constructive criticism; all of your reviews really are invaluable to me, so thank you. :D**_

_**P.S – Just to say, I know very little about psychology, and even less about teenage counselling, as I've never had it or really talked to anyone who has (although there was a time when I was tempted to seek it), so yeah… You might have to forgive me if you do have knowledge/experience in any of this and I'm writing it unrealistically. I'll try my best, but you might just have to give me a little slack if Dr Wright's methods with Scarlett aren't realistic or whatever. :)**_

_**X :D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes, no matter how hard I wish. :P**_

_**Chapter 18**_

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><p>Inside the small, nondescript office of the hospital, Scarlett took a moment to look around as Daniel, or Doctor Wright as she was to know him as, settled himself into a chair across from her. The walls were the same boring off-white colour as the corridor outside, though the chairs were comfier and there were some paintings on the wall to brighten the place up a little bit. She supposed it wasn't too good if the room you were providing counselling to teenagers in was more depressing than the teenagers themselves, and then smiled wryly at the joke. Her Mum had once told her she had a twisted sense of humour and she wondered if perhaps that was true.<p>

"So," Dr Wright said, capturing her attention again as she turned her head back to look at him. "Scarlett."

"Yes?"

"I usually find a good way to start is for you to tell me why you're here, and then we can go from there." He smiled slightly at her and leant back in his chair to sit more comfortably, his hands clasped in his lap as he looked at her through typically eighties thick-rimmed glasses, which were slightly too large on his attractive face. "So… what do you want out of these sessions? If you let me know what it is you're hoping to achieve, then I can help you."

For a moment, Scarlett didn't reply and only stared down at her own knees, thinking. She wanted to comment on how he sounded exactly like Alex had when she first arrived, trying to 'psycho-talk' her into revealing all, but she bit it back. She had come here to… Well, she wasn't sure what she was here for exactly, but it was progress she wanted…right? She wanted to be able to sort stuff out in her head, talk about why she was so angry with her Dad, about just things… Using her usual defence mechanisms of rudeness and sarcasm probably wasn't a good idea, as much as she might want to.

"Um, well… I dunno… I think, I kind of… Want t' talk about my Dad, and… Why I'm angry at 'im?" She looked up at Dr Wright, phrasing her answer more like a question.

But he only nodded patiently at her, smiling slightly again.

"And, well… I dunno, just about stuff really, like… Stuff that's happened, like the…y'know…drugs, and…this guy… Danny…and the others. S'not all my fault."

"No," Dr Wright agreed, nodding a little again. "No person's problems are ever completely their fault, sometimes their problems aren't their fault at all, or sometimes they are, but never completely." He shifted in his seat. "So you're here to talk to me about your Dad mainly then, Scarlett, is that right? And about someone called Danny, and the others? Previous friends of yours?"

Scarlett nodded, flicking her gaze up to look at him before focusing it back on her knees again.

"Okay… So what is it you want ultimately, Scarlett? What do you want to come of talking to me about these things?"

Her first instinct was to shrug in response and she let out an indecipherable mutter. She shrugged again. "Um…I dunno… I want t', well… maybe once I've worked it all out, I could maybe… I dunno, talk to my Dad about it properly? Like…y'know, let 'im know how he made me feel and stuff. I dunno, that's what you psycho-bollocks people do, isn't it? Make people talk about their feelings and shit with each other."

Not in the least offended, probably because he'd heard it countless times before from surly teenagers who thought they knew better, Dr Wright chuckled and nodded when Scarlett glanced up. "Yes, I suppose that's exactly what I'm here for. And I think being able to be in a place where you can talk to your Dad about things in the past, openly and honestly, is a good aim for us to work towards."

With that he stood up and crossed over to a desk in the corner of the room, picking up a small black notebook and pen. Sitting back down in his seat across from Scarlett, he smiled at her a little and gestured with his pen to the notebook. "I'm going to be taking down a few notes during these sessions, Scarlett, but don't worry. No-one else but me will read them, and I won't write anything down but my observations on what you're saying and so on – they're mainly just to help me between sessions. Is that okay?"

Scarlett paused for a moment, looking with instinctive distrust at the little black notebook held in his hands. She didn't like the idea that he could be writing down anything about her, but she guessed she didn't really have much choice. Not if she wanted his help, anyway. And she did. Well, she wanted to try, at least… But God help her if he started asking annoying questions and analysing her every move she was out of there.

"Um…okay. Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Okay," Dr Wright said, crossing one leg over the other to rest the notebook on as he flicked it open. "Well how about you tell me how you came to be in London, Scarlett. You've lived in Manchester all your life until now, yes?"

She nodded, surprised that he wasn't diving straight in there with the 'why do you hate your father so much' probing. But then, maybe it was a game he was playing, a roundabout way of getting her to open up. She sighed. Well she didn't have much choice but to go along with it…She couldn't exactly say she was willing to try and then be uncooperative, could she?

"Um, well… Yeah. But err… me Mam, she's married to this other bloke, this guy called Sean…" She screwed her face up into an expression of displeasure. "He's alrigh', I guess… Like, he treats 'er alright and seems to make 'er happy but, y'know… It's not like I ever felt he didn't like me, but I don't think he particularly did like me either… It was just kind of neutral, you know? And Mam was so busy with 'er job and trying t' earn money, and then she'd spend most of 'er free-time with Sean because well, I guess he was nice and made her 'appy whilst I was a bit of an handful and reminded her of Dad, so…"

"You felt left out?" Dr Wright asked quietly, not pushing her into agreeing or disagreeing.

The signature Hunt pout appeared on Scarlett's lips, a moment passed, and then she nodded a little. "Yeah, s'pose. Just felt like she 'ad someone else to pay attention to, and since he made her happier than I did that I was better off staying away…I didn't really mind…Was just glad she was 'appy, I suppose…I sort of saw it as making sure she stayed that way an' didn't have to bother with me much."

"So you…?" He looked up at her, pausing in his note-taking.

Biting down on her lower lip, Scarlett fiddled with the ends of her jacket sleeves and then shrugged. "I dunno… To cut a long story short I fell in with what people call the wrong crowd, I guess… Started doing some stuff I probably shouldn't 'ave, which I regret now like, and… Yeah, a few weeks ago me and Mam just 'ad this massive argument after the Police 'ad let me off with a caution for something, and she was shouting all about 'ow she couldn't cope with me anymore and she was worried what would happen to me if she didn't do something… Then the next day I found she'd packed my bags and she told me I 'ad to come down 'ere to stay with Dad for a bit. Said she'd square it, or whatever."

Dr Wright hummed thoughtfully, and then asked: "And how did that make you feel?"

She almost laughed at how cliché the question was; she had been wondering when that one was coming. After all, his job wasn't to find out her life story. It was to find out how she felt about it.

"Angry, mainly," she said, nodding and staring resolutely down at the ground, her expression hardening a little as she remembered the fury that had coursed through her when her Mum had told her she was moving down to London for a while. Hell, she hadn't even _asked_, just sent her like some sort of package that could just be dispatched off when it wasn't wanted anymore.

"And… Well I didn't believe 'er at first, but then when she drove me to the station I sort of gathered that she was serious. I stormed off, didn't even say goodbye…" She bit her lip at that, but her face soon hardened again. "I mean, it wasn't like any of us had even spoken to Dad since 'e came down here, and suddenly I was just meant to go live with 'im?" She glanced up at Dr Wright and then dropped her gaze again, picking at a broken nail on her left hand.

"So did you feel anything else, besides anger?"

When silence greeted his question, Dr Wright sighed quietly and paused again, relaxing his writing hand. "Try to think, Scarlett," he said softly, wishing she'd look up more so that he could connect with her better, but he couldn't force her. "Anger might have been the presiding emotion, but try to think, or I can't help you as much as I need to be able to… What else did you feel?"

Scarlett toyed with her broken nail a second more before replying. "It was mainly anger… Still mainly anger… But, I dunno… I guess I felt kind of let down, like… Like she'd given up on me, you know? I suppose I should 'ave thought more before doing some of the stuff I did, should 'ave known I was worrying 'er, stressing her out and stuff, but I didn't think, I was just… Yeah. It was a bit of a shock to realise she honestly didn't know what t' do with me anymore."

There was a short pause, silence hanging in the room for a few moments. Scarlett started to feel the beginnings of awkwardness creeping into the atmosphere and perspective began seeping in too. What the hell was she doing? She was sat here, with someone who was practically a stranger, talking about her _feelings_. If someone had told her a few months ago that she'd be sat here doing this, she'd have given them a good slap and a few rude words for their trouble. Yet, here she was. And she was still unsure as to whether this was a good idea or not. It was hard to see what good could come of dredging up a load of old memories that she'd rather bury.

At length, Dr Wright spoke again. "So, Scarlett… Would it be fair to say that you already felt like your Dad had abandoned you, when he left… But when your Mum sent you down here last month, you felt abandoned by her as well?"

Silence fell again, and Scarlett frowned down at the ground, contemplating. She bit down hard on her lower lip and resisted the urge to agree. Because really, it was such a _pathetic_ thing to admit to. Where she was from, and amongst the people she usually spent time around, parents mattered very little. It mattered even less whether said parents cared about you or not.

But… She couldn't deny the sting in the back of her throat as Dr Wright's words hit a very raw nerve, and she bit down harder on her lower lip.

"I…" Her throat was dry, so she swallowed and tried again. "I dunno… I guess so, that maybe…" She sighed. What was the point? Looking up, she met Dr Wright's gaze properly and nodded.

"Yeah," she said quietly, swallowing again. "I felt abandoned… Twice."

* * *

><p>"Right," Alex said with a sigh as she stepped back through the door into her flat above Luigi's for the first time in days, Gene following closely behind her. She looked about for a moment, checking that everything was just as she'd left it, and then turned to look at him, smiling teasingly. "So are you going to give me a hand with this mattress or not?"<p>

For some reason, Gene seemed for a moment to not have heard her. He looked uncommonly thoughtful, and something she could only interpret as indecision was written in his expression.

"Gene?"

"Yeah, 'ang on, Bolly…" He seemed to pause for a moment, then make a decision. "I guess here's as good a place as any. Why don't yer sit down? I'll get us a brew."

Alex looked at him, incredulous. Her eyebrows almost hit the roof. "What? What's going on, Gene? I thought we were here to get my mattress." She nodded towards the bedroom door, and then directed her frown back at him, hands finding her hips. "And since when does Gene Hunt tell anyone to sit down and offer to make them a cup of tea?"

"Calm down, Bols, it's not that rare of an occurrence," Gene grumbled as he mooched off in the direction of the kitchen, silently avoiding her other questions.

Alex stared after him for a moment, still looking incredulous. But she did as he had said and dropped down onto the sofa with a sigh, shaking her head to herself. What was going on? Gene had said he wanted to talk, but she hadn't thought he had meant right _now_. She had thought that maybe they would talk later, once they were back at his with Scarlett and she was upstairs, maybe after they'd had dinner or something and she had a glass of wine in her hands… Gods she still didn't know exactly what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

It had been over two weeks since she had fallen asleep on him on the sofa and sleepily (or not so sleepily) snuggled up to him after he'd carried her up to his bed, and he hadn't really said anything about it to her since. He wasn't going to bring it up now, surely? He wasn't going to bring… _them_ up. Not that there was a 'them', of course… No.

Gene's voice awoke her from her musings as he appeared by her side, holding out a steaming mug of tea, one for him held in his other hand. "Jesus, Bolly, yer look terrified. My tea making skills aren't that bad, yer know."

Alex looked up at him, momentarily surprised, and then smiled, a little uneasily. "Oh, sorry… Miles away." She took the tea from him and he sat down on the couch beside her, body angled to face her properly. "Thanks."

Taking a long sip of tea and letting out a blissful 'ahh' before saying anything more, Gene just took a moment to glance at her over the rim of his mug. She looked on edge, fidgety. He knew that look. That was her uneasy look – he'd seen the expression on her face a few times before, although usually it was a source of amusement for him. It was the look she always got whenever she was unsure of something, whenever she didn't know something she felt she ought to.

"Bols, relax. I don't know what's got yer so worried. I'm sorry I didn't really explain the sudden sit down an' talk thing, but… Yer know me, rubbish with words."

At that, she gave him a vague, wry smile, leaning forward to place her tea down on the coffee table. "What's this all about, Gene?"

For a moment there was silence between them again as Gene glanced down at the tea in his hands, and then finally moved to place it next to hers on the small wooden table in front of the sofa. He sighed and then looked up, meeting her gaze. Alex could see a certain amount of nervousness in his eyes, but a steely determination too that she couldn't help but want to smile at.

"I want… I want t' talk to you about Scarlett, Bolly… I want yer to know everything. I owe that to yer, at least."

"Oh…" The soft syllable fell from Alex's lips lightly, and she looked at him with renewed understanding, the confusion and expectation in her eyes giving way to softness. "Gene, you don't have to do this now, you know… It's okay. I understand." She reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "It might be better when we have more time."

But Gene shook his head and sat up straighter, like he meant business. "No, Bols…" He shook his head again, and then looked at her almost pleadingly. "Please, Alex, just…let me speak now. Or I'll lose my nerve and not want t' do it later."

Alex gave a gentle sigh, but she understood. Gene Hunt didn't do 'prissy, girly silly talk about feelings and memories'. It just wasn't him. Yet here he was, wanting to open up to her about the things that were haunting him. She knew it couldn't be easy for him, preparing to bare himself to her like this. The least she could do was hear him out when he wanted it.

"Okay," she said quietly, giving him a small smile and his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'm listening."

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><p><em><strong>Gahh…I really hope this chapter was okay! Please let me know honestly what you think. :) I'm sorry it's been so dialogue heavy, but there really isn't any other way to do these scenes. This heavier talking stuff should hopefully be over for now by the end of the next chapter. <strong>_

_**I'd just quickly like this chance to say a special thank you to those of my readers who also follow me on tumblr – your help, advice and comments when I'm flailing about what to do in chapters and just generally about my stories never fails to make me smile, so thank you! And if you are on tumblr and haven't seen my blog and would like to be kept up to date on all my writing shizz – my URL is terrythepetdalek on there. :)**_

_**Thank you again for reading, and please review!**_

_**X :D**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Hello again, dear readers. :) I'm back from my trip to China! So yeah, that kind of explains why this update is a little later than intended… I'd have updated before I went if I'd found time, but then packing turned into a nightmare and I didn't have chance. Anyway, I'm here with the next chapter now, I hope you enjoy it! Lots of dialogue again, I'm afraid, but it's kind of necessary, especially to Galex understanding each other fully and where they stand. :) Thank you all as ever for your reviews and encouragements on Tumblr! **_

_**Eleantris. :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes, just the boxsets and undying love for it. :P**_

_**Chapter 19**_

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><p>Gene took a deep, steady breath in, looking across at Alex levelly as she sat with patient eyes and a faint, encouraging smile. This was it. Already he could feel the words sticking in his throat and getting mixed up, confusing themselves as to which should come out first, but he had to do this. He owed her an explanation, the story of how he and Scarlett had come to be so estranged from each other. It was a miracle that Alex had even stayed to help him this long without demanding answers, but he couldn't stand the look of confusion and hurt that seemed to darken her expression every time she had chance to sit down and muse over the situation, often late at night before they retired to bed. She needed to know, to understand. He would do this. Even if it meant her looking at him in disgust for his cowardliness and walking away.<p>

"Me an' Caroline got married because she was pregnant," he eventually said, deciding the very beginning was probably the best place to start. "Shotgun wedding, if yer like. Our relationship was already on the rocks an' a baby was hardly what we needed, but… Yer know me, I didn't want t'…I couldn't just leave 'er in the lurch, could I? So I married her. Thought that maybe it'd be alright, that 'aving a baby would bring us closer together again and I dunno, I sort of…talked myself round in t' thinking that marriage wasn't such a bad idea after all. Very almost ran fer it on the actual day like. Could barely get the blasted ring on 'er finger." He gave Alex a grim, depreciative smile.

"Anyway…few months later, Scarlett came along, an' I started t' think that maybe everything would be alright." Glancing up at Alex again here, Gene looked at her with haunted eyes, and she thought she was sure that she'd never seen him, or anyone else for that matter, look so saddened.

"Proudest day of my life, the day she was born, Bolly," he said quietly, looking down again as though feeling almost self-conscious. "It was like all of a sudden I 'ad this tiny person in my arms and I was responsible for 'er. She had the bluest eyes ever and was just staring up at me, an' all I can remember thinking was 'please God, don't let me fuck this up'."

There was an iron hard lump forming in Alex's throat as she squeezed Gene's arm and nodded at him, only just managing a small, shaky smile. The Molly-shaped hole that she knew would now forever be in her chest stung at his words, the pain searing through her. "I know the feeling," she told him, her smile wavering. "It's the best and worst feeling in the world."

A short silence followed Alex's words as Gene took a moment to compose himself, work out what to say next. He swallowed over the lump in his own throat and sighed, glancing for a moment at where Alex's hand was resting lightly on his arm, almost absently, as though she had barely realised herself that it was still there. He found that he didn't want her to move it; so long as she was still touching him, she still wanted to be there, and she was still listening. She wasn't running away, disgusted and angry at how he was a sorry and pathetic excuse for a father.

Sighing, Gene passed a hand over his face and then rested his elbow on the back of the sofa, wetting his lips as he prepared to continue.

"But I was up fer promotion to DCI at the time, and…yer know, that was all I'd ever wanted t' be, ever since I was kid. When I started out I was just this puny bloke in a uniform, needed some meat on me, they all said… And then there I was, years later, with a shot at being DCI… Job was even worse up there and back then than it is now, Bolly. Corruption was the norm with most officers, wasn't even something yer blinked an eye at; everyone got their fair share of a beating and their fair share of doing the beating; it was…brutal. And just the general public was nearly as bad as the criminals – lost track of 'ow many times I got spat at in the street. And yer think public opinion of the police now is bad." He paused, exhaling at length for a moment as he looked back on that life – one of brutality, coarseness, 'good old fashioned policing', so much worse that he had it now.

"I was under a lot of pressure…in a lot of danger most of the time, too. Ended up 'ardly seeing Caroline or Scarlett, and it only took a week or two before fear grabbed 'old of me again and I got myself back in t' thinking that I just wasn't cut out for the marriage and babies thing…not with the shit I was facing on a daily basis. I told myself it wasn't good fer 'em – fer the missus or Scarlett – to 'ave a Dad involved in so much violence every day."

Looking up at Alex, he swallowed, and she caught the look of emptiness swirling in his eyes. "Yer have t' understand, Bols… I hated who I was. I didn't hate what I did, still thought I was doing the right thing fer my country and my city… Still do. But I 'ated who I was, what it made me. I kept telling myself that the less Scarlett saw of me the better, that she'd be better off not being close t' me, not being close t' the hell I worked in every day… Me and Caroline were 'ardly speaking now by this point, as yer can imagine – me avoiding 'er and the baby, holing myself up in the boozer after work to avoid facing 'er… I told myself I was protecting them at the time, by distancing myself away… Told myself I was giving Scarlett a better chance at a safer life. After all, what kid at school back then went round proudly telling their friends that their Daddy was a copper?" His face twisted with bitterness. "None, Bols. None. Things were so much worse back then, especially where in Manchester we were. So yeah… that's what I told myself. That she were better not knowing me, and that if Caroline wanted a divorce she could 'ave one. They were better off without me, better off not being involved in that world of scum and violence and ten shades of shit t' deal with every day…"

"But?" Alex asked softly, sensing that there was a 'but'.

Gene swallowed, his features darkened again by the familiar look of self-contempt she had seen almost permanently in his expression when Scarlett had first arrived in London.

"But I was lying t' myself… They might 'ave been good reasons fer staying away at the time, maybe, but… When I'm honest with myself, Bols… I was scared." He met her gaze, and then dropped it again in shame.

"I was fucking terrified of fucking it up, Alex," he whispered, shaking his head to himself as he felt her squeeze his lower arm again where her hand was still resting on it. "I told myself I was protecting 'er by staying away, but really…I was just looking for an excuse t' run. I couldn't do it, couldn't cope with it… I was so sure I was going to fuck it up, that I was going to make a terrible father, that…I didn't even bother trying."

Meeting Alex's gaze again with his torn up, stormy one, Gene swallowed. She watched with tearful eyes as his lips twisted bitterly.

"I was a coward, Alex. A coward who deserted 'is own daughter."

"Gene…" His name fell from between her lips as barely a whisper, and she gripped his arm tighter as though hoping that could stop the rest of him falling apart. "You… It wasn't all your fault, you… It was the wrong decision, Gene, but… I can- at least, I think I can understand what you were feeling. At least you had reasons; at least you _were_ in a difficult position." Her next words hung in the air, unsaid, not needing to be voiced: _Pete wasn't_.

Gene dropped his head, looking down again. "When Scarlett was only about four months old, Caroline chucked me out one night and divorced me just as quick… It almost makes me sick to remember 'ow relieved I was at the time. I'd just abandoned my baby daughter and all I could feel was bloody relief, that I could do my job without worrying about 'er, that I could immerse myself in all that shit and not feel any responsibility fer anything. I washed my 'ands of her… I don't blame 'er for hating me, Bols.

"It took a while for Caroline to come round t' actually asking me if I wanted t' still see Scarlett, yer know at weekends and things… and fer a while, I did… Turned up on the dot every other Saturday for two or three years t' see 'er, play with 'er and see how she was doing… I missed everything, Bolly. I'd be there one week and she'd just be crawling along the floor. I'd turn up two weeks later and there she was - clutching the edge of the sofa, walking."

In her chest, Alex's heart was breaking, but in that moment, she wasn't sure who she most felt pity for: Gene, or Scarlett. The conflict was tearing her apart inside, and a part of her wanted to be angry at Gene, to shout at him, to ask him how he could have been so cowardly, so different to the man she knew him to be now. What had happened to being where he was needed? But another, stronger part of her told her that wasn't necessary. Gene already knew what a coward he had been, how badly his decision had affected his daughter. He already hated himself for it – that much was evident in his eyes, in the strain and crack of his voice as he spoke. And Alex found she couldn't hate him for what he had done. Never, not in a million years, could she ever bring herself to hate him. She would forgive him anything, in time… And that was what scared her.

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><p>"And then, I just… the job started getting in the way, I started wanting t' distance myself again… I stopped showing up on time, every time… Caroline would get angry with me, tell me not t' bother ever coming back to see Scarlett ever again… and then it would take 'er weeks to come round, invite me again… and then I'd turn up late once more, or make some excuse… Half the time it was genuine. I got promoted t' DCI and I couldn't always guarantee I wouldn't get called out on a case, dragged in t' stuff I didn't want t' be dragged into… other half of the time I just couldn't cope with seeing 'er, with being reminded of that responsibility, an' the knowledge that I'd failed… Every night, Bols… Every night I'd fall asleep remembering 'ow I felt when she was born, and 'ow spectacularly I'd managed to fuck it up. Got t' thinking eventually that I didn't deserve t' see 'er, that I didn't deserve a daughter and 'ad no right to be waltzing in and out of her life, confusing 'er… And I only thought it more when Caroline remarried. Didn't really know the bloke, but I thought at least then Scarlett had a shot of 'aving a decent father, maybe… He 'ad no criminal record, seemed alright on the occasions I met 'im… Caroline seemed smitten with 'im, so… I made myself more and more scarce, saw Scarlett less and less."<p>

He glanced up at Alex, but sensing that he was in full flow now, she stayed silent and just gave him a small, wavering smile of encouragement, keeping her hand on his arm, connecting her to him.

"Continued like that 'till she was about twelve, really… Me seeing her very little and not very often… It got easier as she got older, but… I could never look at 'er and not feel guilty. And th-then… And then Sam died."

Swallowing quietly, Alex looked up, watching his expression as it darkened again. She rarely got to see how badly Sam's death had affected him, but she saw it now. Grief joined the look of guilt, torture and self-hatred in his eyes, and all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him. But this was Gene Hunt before her, not a child in need of hugs for comfort. He would never let her do that. So instead she settled for squeezing his arm again, keeping her hand firmly there to let him know she wasn't going anywhere. How could she?

"After that…everything seemed pointless. I got the position down 'ere, 'ad my bags packed and my goodbyes said within a week, an' then I was gone… Fer a few months I had a few regular phone calls with her. I'd ask about school, 'er homework, 'er friends…things like that. Then, after a while, she stopped picking up… Or she would pick up, and then put the phone down as soon as I said it was me. Th-that was around the time you arrived, actually…"

Alex bit her lip, looking down, and then up at him again. "That was why you reacted so touchily when I assumed you didn't have children… Oh God, Gene, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, one corner of his lips lifting into a very small, again depreciative smile. "S'all right, Bolly… You weren't t' know. From that moment on, I felt like I honestly didn't 'ave any kids… She'd become a stranger t' me, I'd… I'd lost her."

"And you never heard from her again until she turned up here at the station?"

"No," Gene said quietly, and Alex was horrified to see hot, anguished tears building up in his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and he wasn't crying now, but he was close and it made tears spill from her own eyes as she shifted closer to him on the sofa.

"Gene," she sighed, not knowing what to do to comfort him.

Barely aware of what she was doing, but only aware of her desperation to take the tortured, bitter look from his face, Alex lifted her hand to rest against his jaw, her fingers slipping round to caress the tendrils of hair at the back his neck. He seemed to pull her closer at that and before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her shoulder, giving her no choice but to return the embrace. She wrapped her own arms around him just as tightly, holding him to her as though trying to infuse comfort into him through some miraculous form of human osmosis.

"Gene," she whispered against his neck, blinking through the tears glazing across her eyelashes, inhaling the heady, masculine scent of him. "I forgive you, Gene. It wasn't all your fault, and… I forgive you, okay? I promise."

She didn't know why she felt the need to let him know that she wasn't angry at him so strongly, but she did. There was some kind of desperation inside her demanding to let him know that she was there, that she wasn't going to go away and that she didn't judge him for what had happened. She forgave him. She forgave him for a sin that when committed by her own ex-husband, had been unforgiveable.

It was then, sitting on her couch in his arms, holding him to her with all the strength she possessed, her face pressed warmly against his neck, that Alex Drake realised something.

She was in love with Gene Hunt.

And there wasn't anything he could ever say or do to change that fact. She was in love with him.

And she didn't know when it had happened or how it had happened, but all she knew was that it was true. She loved him. More than she thought it even possible to love another human being.

She, Alex Drake, was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Gene Hunt.

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><p><em><strong>Oh dear lord, so much angst in this chapter I think I might be drowning in it! I hope it was okay though, and not badly written; I get very nervous about angsty dialogue. So please tell me honestly what you thought in a review! :) <strong>_

_**Eleantris. :)**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Hello, darlings! Wow, thank you all so much for the incredible response to last chapter – I'm really glad you liked it. :D Sorry, this chapter would have been finished sooner, but then the trailer for Series 7 of DrWho came out and I got distracted. :P But t'is here now, enjoy! :D Oh, and thank you to those of you on Tumblr who gave me some pointers as to the sort of stuff you want to see happening in this story. :D**_

_**Eleantris. :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. **_

_**Chapter 20**_

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><p>Gene glanced towards the door of the ladies' toilets, through which Scarlett had just disappeared, and then looked back towards Dr Wright, studying the man's handsome features and thick-rimmed glasses with a serious, but hesitant expression on his face. His hands were shoved in his pockets – a sign Alex had long learnt meant he was feeling a little nervous.<p>

"So…err…how was she?"

Daniel gave him a small smile, the sort used by those in the medical profession across the world to immediately set people at ease. "Quite well, actually," he said, nodding and shifting the file he was holding in his left hand to his right. "A little apprehensive at first, but that's to be expected. But no, once we got going, she seemed quite willing to talk. I can't tell you anything we've discussed, of course, but I want you to know that I think this opportunity to voice her thoughts and feelings could be really good for her. And I think she realises that too."

Nodding slightly, his usual pout resting on his lips, Gene glanced at Alex and she gave him a small smile, her eyes saying so much more:

_It's okay, Gene. He's being honest. She's responding well to this. I'm here._

"Right, err… Well, that's good to hear. Thank you, for agreeing to see 'er."

At that point Scarlett returned from the toilet, and after a second appointment had been made with her agreement and goodbyes said, the three of them made their way out to the Quattro.

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><p>"I'll, err…go into the living room and set up this makeshift bed of mine – give you two some time to talk," Alex said quietly once they had arrived back at Gene's house and Scarlett had immediately slipped silently off into the kitchen in search of a drink.<p>

Gene seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking uncertainly at the mattress they'd left propped up in the hall.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I'm a woman, Gene, not an invalid. I'll manage." She nodded towards the kitchen with a small smile of encouragement. "Go. Talk to her."

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><p>Ten minutes later, Alex sank down onto the mattress she had lugged into Gene's living room and dropped her head into her hands. The sheets, duvet and pillows he had left there for her were still sitting untouched on the floor. The last thing she wanted to do in that moment was make up a bed. Not when she found a large part of her bitterly wishing she had never suggested this and just carried on not acknowledging the fact that it wasn't normal for them to be sharing a bed every night, even if all they were doing was actually sleeping.<p>

Letting out a long sigh, Alex pulled her head up from her hands and bit her lip, looking around as though somewhere in the room, she'd find a solution to her problem.

She had no idea what had happened back at her flat; the emotions that had rushed through her, like flood waters through a busted dam, had completely knocked her for six, bringing her to a revelation she had been trying her best to avoid. She didn't need this complication right now. Hell, none of them did.

"_Shit_," she muttered, almost spitting out the word as though it would make her feel better. She got up with another sharp sigh and then sat back down again, feeling completely at a loss for what to do.

Trepidation and exhilaration and fear and excitement were all rushing through her veins at a million miles per hour, making her hands tremble when she held them out in front of her.

She loved him. She actually loved him.

And she could do bugger all about it. Not when things were still difficult with Scarlett, not when she was sure he didn't see her as any more than his nuisance of a DI and a good friend. There had been something between them, back in the weeks and first few months when she had arrived… the sexual tension had never gone away, but he had stopped looking at her like… Like it was obvious. She sighed again, shaking her head. She didn't know. Didn't know anything anymore, it felt like. He never made overly suggestive comments anymore, had never asked her out again or tried anything on with her. At first she had been glad, but now…

What now?

Alex didn't have an answer to that.

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><p>"Bolly?"<p>

Gene's voice broke through the conflict raging in Alex's head and she jumped a little, lifting her head up from her hands again and getting to her feet. He was stood in the doorway of the living room, one hand on the frame.

"Scarlett, err…She says she fancies pizza fer dinner, so I thought I'd go out and get one from Luigi's. Do yer want anything different – that fancy pasta yer like with the mushrooms?"

She couldn't help but smile at him, though it didn't quite reach her eyes all the way, and it didn't escape Gene's notice that there was something about her expression that made her look a million miles away.

"Um, no it's fine. Pizza's good."

He nodded. "Okay. I won't be long, Bols."

He turned to go, but Alex stepped forward, trying to snap herself back into the real world properly. "Um, Gene?"

"Yeah?"

She bit her lip, craning her neck a little to check Scarlett wasn't lingering in the hallway or anything. "How is she? Did she anything much to you?"

To Alex's surprise, Gene's lips quirked into the slightest trace of a brief smile. "Uh, yeah, actually… I asked 'ow it went and she managed to say 'it was fine' without biting my 'ead off, and then she asked if we could 'ave her favourite pizza for tea, so… That's a start, right?"

Nodding, Alex smiled again, this time more easily. "Of course it is. I'll see you in about ten, fifteen minutes then? Perhaps you could bring back a bottle of Luigi's best house rubbish too?"

Gene shook his head at her, amused, but inwardly he found himself suddenly wondering how he had survived so many years of his life without her in his life. It almost felt like she'd always been there, because he couldn't imagine her ever not being there now… But, anyway. He pushed those thoughts from his head.

"Swear yer can stomach more bad alcohol than me, Bolly. Sets a bad example, yer know."

"Oh!" Alex's eyes widened in apology. "Yes, sorry, of course… Just ignore me. Sorry, Gene. I didn't think."

He looked at her, incredulous. "I was joking, yer daft mare! I 'ardly think it matters t' Scarlett one way or another if we 'ave a glass of wine or two with dinner."

"Are you sure?"

Gene very almost rolled his eyes the way she always did at him when she thought he was being ridiculous. "We're 'ardly going t' get roaring drunk, Bols. Bleedin' hell, yer jumpier than a jack in the box. What's wrong with you?"

He paused for a moment, and then concern came into his face and he stepped closer to her. "You…You are alright, aren't you, Bols? I know earlier was a lot t' take in, I'm sorry if I…" Sighing, he looked at her worriedly, wondering if everything he'd told her was only just beginning to sink in for her now, and that she was going to run for the hills at any minute.

"Oh, no, no." Alex gave him a small, reassuring smile and placed her hand on his arm for a few seconds, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Gene. Just tired and stuff, that's all."

Gene still didn't look reassured. "You sure?"

"_Yes_." She smiled at him. "Now will you please stop worrying about me, Gene? And quit looking at me like you're scared I'm going to suddenly turn and slap you at any moment, too. I meant what I said earlier. It doesn't change anything for me. For as long as you want me here, I'm here."

Gene just looked at her for a moment, again marvelling over the very fact that there was once a time when she wasn't in his life. What he had done with himself before then, he had no idea. "Thanks, Bols," he said, his voice slightly gruff, but sincerely grateful.

She just shrugged, trying to disperse some of the seriousness that had been injected into the atmosphere. She was scared of looking him in the eye for too long, of talking too honestly. She was afraid of what he might see in her eyes, of what he might hear in her voice. Her nerves were on high alert and now all she could think or hear or feel when she looked at him was a continuous stream playing in her head:

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. _

"Hey, what are pain-in-the-arse, posh-bird DIs for?"

Gene just smirked back at her on his way out. "Oh I don't know, I can think of a few things, Bolly."

And then, he was gone, and Alex sank back down onto the sofa again, heaving a long, drawn out sigh.

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><p>Scarlett was pretty sure she'd never spent an evening so awkwardly in her life. She was sitting at the small table in her Dad's kitchen, with him at the head of it and Alex across from her. A large, open pizza box was laid in the middle, half empty now as all three of them made their way through their second slice of Luigi's finest ham and pineapple with extra cheese. Most of the meal had been spent in silence, each of them glancing up from their food when they thought the other two weren't looking, and every single one of them wondering if or when anyone was going to speak.<p>

And what was worse, she wasn't even sure how she really felt about this. A few weeks ago, there would have been no doubt that Scarlett would have rather burnt all her own hair off than sit down for a meal with her father and a woman she barely knew. But… there was a small part of her, a _very_ small part of her, but a part of her nonetheless, that found it kind of…nice. It felt oddly and shockingly normal, even if all three of them had seemingly lost the power of speech. And if there was one thing Scarlett wasn't used to, it was normality. She found that she didn't mind it as much as she thought she used to.

At that moment, Scarlett heard Alex clear her throat slightly and she looked up, stiffening a little.

"So, um… Scarlett, what's your favourite subject at school then?"

Scarlett looked at her like she was crazy. She frowned, her eyes flickering to her Dad, and then back to Alex. For a split second, she scowled, before easing her expression back into something more neutral again. She had to keep telling herself that her Dad's DI wasn't at fault for anything, that even her Dad himself wasn't at fault for everything… But it was taking effort to even just make an effort.

"Um, I… I don't 'ave one…?"

"Oh," Alex said, looking down at her pizza for a second, feeling a little foolish. But the awkward silence had been killing her, and she did really want to know more about Gene's daughter, even if it was just mundane things like what her favourite subjects were or her favourite bands or even colour. "Well, err… It's just you're going to have to be enrolled in a school here soon, and…your Dad and I were just wondering if there were any specialisms or facilities we should be prioritising."

Silence was thick in the air again for a moment, and Alex very almost jumped out of her seat when she felt Gene gently bump her thigh under the table with his knee, his gaze meeting hers as if to say '_thank you_'.

After a moment, Scarlett said quietly: "I…um…I like art, I guess."

Smiling, slightly surprised that the teenage girl had deigned to answer her at all, Alex nodded and picked up her wine glass, in need of a large mouthful. "Well that's good to know then. And…how about the other subjects, or school in general?"

Scarlett just shrugged. "S'alright, I suppose," she replied, and then returned to eating her pizza. A moment later, the silence was interrupted again when she glanced hesitantly up at her Dad. "Um, could yer pass the ketchup please?"

Gene passed it to her, lips twitching into a small brief smile, and silence descended again. The attempt at proper conversation short-lived, they finished their meal in silence, and both Alex and Gene remained electrically aware of the point under the table where his knee was touching her thigh the entire time.

* * *

><p>"Well, um, I'll clear this lot away," Alex said with a smile once they'd finished, immediately getting to her feet to clear away the empty pizza box and their plates.<p>

As she reached for Gene's plate, her hand brushed his where he reached at the same time to pass it to her and she jerked back, the plate dropping the few centimetres back onto the table with a resounding _thud_. Her eyes widened immediately, hands reaching to grab the plate as though hoping that if she picked it up fast enough, no-one would have noticed her drop it.

"Sorry," she said quickly, trying to smile briefly to cover it up, but electric sparks were shooting up her arm and she could feel Gene's puzzled gaze on her, trying to work out why she looked so startled. She hurried away towards the sink as soon as she could, and Gene stared after her, frowning.

What on earth was wrong with his DI? They touched all the time…hand brushes when handing over files, poking each other in fights, gently pushing each other out of the way whilst out on a case, him helping her up the stairs whenever she'd had too much to drink… Hell, they'd even been sharing a bed for the past week or so. Why was she so jumpy around him all of a sudden?

A sinking feeling of dread settled in his stomach, just as panic rose up inside him. He hadn't said anything, had he? Anything that might lead her to realise that what he felt for her extended, somehow, much beyond friendship… Had he slipped up, said something he shouldn't have, and now she was trying to back off because she didn't want to give him the wrong idea and encourage him?

Gene found that just the thought felt much more like a kick in the teeth than it should do.

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><p><em><strong>I'm really sorry if this chapter seems a bit like a filler! : I promise there will be slightly more exciting stuff going on next chapter…but I wanted to show all three of them together, so I hope I got the kind of awkward atmosphere of that across okay, without using the word 'awkward' too many times. :P Please leave your honest thoughts in a review!**_

_**Eleantris. :)**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**I'm so sorry this chapter is nearly six weeks late; lots of stuff happened, I went back to school, etc… everything sort of got backlogged. :/ Anyway, thank you so much for your patience and support, and enjoy the chapter. :)**_

_**Eleantris :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. **_

_**Chapter 21**_

* * *

><p>Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex turned onto her back and stared upwards into the darkness of Gene's living room. The curtains had been pulled tight over the window, so the blackness was absolute.<p>

It was almost too dark. Alex felt like it was smothering her, closing in on her from all sides, no-one to hold it at bay. It left her with only her thoughts for company, and her brain had been running in circles for hours as she shifted, tossed and turned, trying desperately to get to sleep. It was no use. As loath as she was to admit it, Alex just didn't feel _right_ sleeping downstairs alone. She ached to be able to reach out her hand and brush it against his, to reassure herself. She missed the sound of his deep breathing, the occasional shift of the sheets as he moved beside her. And once she'd allowed these thoughts to take root in her mind, they refused to be removed and grew, stretching with long fingers to clasp around her heart.

She let out a final sigh and sat up, pushing back the duvet and getting up from her makeshift bed on the floor. Feeling her way through the dark, she moved towards the kitchen. She remembered how when Molly used to have trouble sleeping, in what felt to her like once upon a dream ago, Alex used to make them both warm milk, with a little honey stirred in.

* * *

><p>For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Gene tried to punch his pillow into shape and ignore the fact that it wasn't the shape of the pillow that felt wrong, but the shape of the mattress. There was no dip to the right of him where her body usually curled around her half of the duvet, no warmth just a few inches away – so comforting, so lovely, and oh so tempting.<p>

He sat up with a huff, abandoning the pillow as a lost battle. It wasn't the reason he couldn't sleep.

* * *

><p>To Gene's surprise, there was already a glow spilling from the kitchen into the hall as he quietly walked downstairs, ears pricked to pick up the sounds of padding feet and the soft sound of cupboard doors being shut gently.<p>

"Bols?"

For a split second, Alex froze in the act of stirring the honey into her warmed milk and just managed to stop herself from jumping at the sound of his voice. She turned to face him, mug cradled close to her chest with both hands, and smiled softly, leaning back against the countertop.

"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly, bringing the mug of warm, honeyed milk to her lips.

Gene cleared his throat. "Me neither. Too much t' think about." He moved forward, retrieving a mug for himself from the cupboard as he glanced sideways at Alex, gaze sweeping over her checked flannel pyjamas (how did she manage to still look so gorgeous, even in baggy nightwear?) before he nodded to the mug in her hands. "What have yer got there anyway, Bolly?"

Alex watched as he filled the kettle up and allowed her eyes to wander appreciatively for a moment over the plains of broad shoulders, usually so well disguised but now only hidden beneath the old rugby shirt she presumed he'd only pulled on to come downstairs in. He usually just slept in pyjama bottoms.

"Warm milk with honey," she told him eventually, taking another sip. "It always used to work f-for…for Molly, whenever she couldn't sleep."

"Thought it looked girly," Gene said, but Alex didn't miss the kind glance he gave her as he turned to reach for a teabag, pausing for just a moment to meet her gaze and let her know that he understood, even if he didn't know how to articulate that understanding out loud.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, a long, relaxed sigh came from Gene as he leant back against the countertop opposite Alex, a freshly steaming mug of tea in his hands.<p>

"That'll keep you awake more than anything," Alex murmured, sipping her warm milk. "There's caffeine in tea."

Rolling his eyes, Gene took a deep gulp from his mug. "Never quit nagging do yer, woman?"

She looked up at him and smiled; there was no real disdain to his words. There never seemed to be these days. "No. But if I didn't, who else would keep you in check?"

Gene chuckled – a deep, genuine sound from his lungs that caused the smile on Alex's face to linger. "True, Bols. Very true."

They both drank in companionable silence for what felt like a lifetime, each quietly comfortable in the familiarity of the other's company. Chris, Ray and Shaz would have laughed to see their Guv and the Ma'am like this – sharing a night-time drink in the cosy, soft light of the kitchen. No fights, no bickering. Just a drifting sort of peace that floated amongst words unsaid and emotions misconstrued as something less than they were, sometimes deliberately.

Eventually, Gene's voice broke apprehensively through the silence.

"I talked to Caroline earlier today."

Alex looked up in surprise, stirring from her thoughts. "Oh?"

"Yeah, she err…well, we 'ad a discussion, and decided it's best if Scarlett does stay down 'ere with me in the long term. She told me to go ahead with enrolling 'er at school."

"And did she speak with Scarlett too?"

Shaking his head a little grimly, Gene set his now empty mug down on the counter next to him. "She asked t' talk to her, but Scarlett was having none of it. Refused t' take the phone when I tried to hand it to her."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Alex mused, voice low and grey. She chewed her lower lip for a few seconds, thinking. "She's just doing what most overwhelmed teenagers try to do – she's isolating herself from anyone or anything that upsets her. Anything that makes her feel like she's not in control. First you, and her friends at home, and now her Mum, for sending her here."

She let out a long sigh, sad eyes meeting Gene's. "She must feel so lost, Gene," she murmured, her heart aching for the teenage girl asleep upstairs. "So alone. Like everyone's giving up on her."

The words that fell from between Gene's lips next were quiet, but carried a strength of sincerity that pierced and punctuated the air, leaving its mark.

"I won't give up on her, Alex. Not again. Not ever."

A short silence lingered before Alex brought her gaze up to meet his, and a small, morosely tentative smile lifted the corners of her lips.

"I know," she whispered, staring into the storm of his eyes as though seeing through the clouds of grey right to his very soul. "I know you won't."

She was letting him know, the same way as he had let her know earlier, that she understood.

* * *

><p>Halfway down the stairs, Scarlett froze. Her hand had been resting lightly on the banister, but now she gripped it tight, her fingers suddenly closing around it in shock as her breath hitched and caught in her throat.<p>

She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop; it had never got her anywhere pleasant. But she hadn't been meaning to. Her throat was dry, a painful lump forming there that she could barely swallow past. With its juddering, staccato beats, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She'd only been coming down for a glass of water; she hadn't realised that her Dad or Alex was awake.

But now the overheard words were tearing through her head, ripping her up inside until she didn't know what to feel. Letting out a low, shaky breath, Scarlett began to back up as quietly as she could, retreating upstairs again. She wanted to run, flee, but then they'd hear, would know that she'd heard.

Tears were swimming in her eyes when she slipped back into her room and collapsed down onto the bed, breathless. He really meant it. With every fibre of his being he had meant it. A tear dropped down from between Scarlett's eyelashes onto her cheek, and she brushed it away carelessly. She'd never heard anyone speak about her like that before – she'd never given them a reason to. And now…now those words, that warmth of honesty, the fiery determination to protect, to love… It all came from her Dad, of all people.

How many nights had she spent as a little girl, fighting hard not to cry herself to sleep because she wanted to know how to make her Daddy love her? How many times had she watched her friends being picked up from the playground by the their Dads – Dads who asked them about their day and grinned proudly when they heard the results of their spelling tests – and wished her Dad would do the same?

And now, Scarlett cried, because every tear she had tried to suppress as a little girl, every lip tremble and shaky breath, came spilling out of her as if from a reservoir, and the dam had finally broken. The words she had heard her Dad murmur to Alex, imbued with faithful ferocity, echoed in her mind as tears swam silently down her cheeks.

'_I won't give up on her… Not again. Not ever_'.

Scarlett hardly knew whether to feel happy or sad. She suddenly felt like a little girl again – like the little girl who had loved her Daddy so much, no matter how late he was or how long he stayed away – and her heart felt bruised in the most bittersweet way possible. It seemed like such a simple, childish wish to make, but she just wanted, all of a sudden, for everything to be _better_ again.

He had said he wouldn't give up on her. Not again. Not ever.

And amazingly, Scarlett found herself aching to believe him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I know this chapter should probably be longer, but I wanted to get at least something posted. :) If it's any consolation, I have a little short oneshot piece to post a little later too. :P Hope it was okay anyway, and sorry again about the delay. : **_

_**Eleantris :)**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Hi there. :) Sorry it's taken this a while to get to you again – 5 A-levels take up a lot of time. :P But it's here now! Hope you enjoy it and thank you all for your reviews so far. They mean a lot to me. Oh and just to say – we've had a little time jump with this chapter – we're now about a week on from the end of the last update, just to clear that up before you're all like 'whoa hold up, you said Scarlett only meets with her therapist once a week!' :P **_

_**Eleantris. :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. **_

_**Chapter 22**_

* * *

><p>Nothing had changed about the room. The walls were still a sickeningly boring off-white colour, the carpet still a bluish-grey, and the brightness of the paintings on the walls still seemed to make a mockery of their surroundings. And yet, as Scarlett sat down across from Dr Wright, she felt that <em>something<em> had changed – that she felt lighter somehow. Brighter, if that was possible.

Picking up on her more relaxed posture and the seemingly more at ease look in Scarlett's eyes, Dr Wright looked up from his notes and offered her a small, easy-going smile.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked.

Scarlett just shrugged, but the action wasn't as dramatic or vicious as he remembered it being during their session the week before. "Alright, I guess."

"And is that 'alright – I don't really want to tell you' or 'alright – I actually am alright'?"

For a second, Scarlett looked up at the psychologist, mildly surprised, before she remembered he was being paid to read her like a book; of course he'd picked up on her pause, the slight inflection of confusion in her voice. She considered for a moment, and then replied:

"Bit of both, I suppose… I mean, there's nothing wrong, or nothing new anyway, but I'm still not sure if… Well, I'm just not sure…"

She had trailed off, teeth taking up their usual habit of biting her lower lip as Dr Wright jotted down a few words in short-hand and looked back up at her again.

"What are you not sure about, Scarlett?"

"I don't know…everything."

Even as she heard the words leave her mouth, Scarlett hated them. But she was conflicted. Part of her wanted to leave, like she had wanted to last time, to refuse to talk, because the whole process of counselling just made her feel so pathetic, but at the same time, she wanted some kind of resolution. Ever since she had come to live with her Dad and, she now suspected, for a while before that too, Scarlett's head and heart and hormones had been at war, and she just wanted it to stop. She wanted to know for definite what she thought and felt, and if Dr Wright could help her find and declare that peace then…surely it was worth feeling pathetic as she wore her heart on her sleeve for an hour every Saturday?

She looked up as Dr Wright asked: "Everything?"

Slowly, her teeth released her lower lip, though she immediately looked like she wanted to bite it again. "I dunno, just…"

Insides squirming, Scarlett trailed off again. She swallowed, glancing briefly up at a painting on the opposite wall, behind and to the left of the doctor's head. It depicted a field bursting insanely with flowers, bathed in the sort of sunshine that can only exist in artists' imaginations. She found it easier to talk when she stared at it, instead of Dr Wright.

"Um…it's like…I dunno… It feels so stupid to say I'm not sure about _everything_, but it's true. I feel like I should miss the people I hung roun' with, but I don't, or just Manchester in general, but there's nothing there. An' then I get t' wondering if that makes me that fucked up, like do I even care about _anything_ anymore? Because I want t' care about stuff but everything I thought mattered to me doesn't seem to anymore, an' I don't really know what to make of that…"

"Scarlett," Dr Wright said softly, finally coaxing her into making eye contact with him. "Please don't think that any of this means there's something wrong with you. Maybe you simply don't care about those things anymore, or maybe that's just the way you feel at the moment, but I'm afraid only you can answer that. And you will be able to. You won't feel this confused forever. That's what I'm here to help you with."

There was a silent pause before Scarlett nodded, her gaze dropping.

"I just feel…still kind of lost…but not like I did before. Something's different, an' I'm even more unsure about what that is."

Eyebrows drawn together slightly, Dr Wright leaned back, his pen resting motionlessly in his hand as he studied Scarlett more closely. "Okay," he said slowly, with a vague nod. "Well how about you just try to explain what it is that feels different, or what's changed? Don't worry about sounding silly or getting it wrong or not being able to define it properly. That doesn't matter, but just try and start somewhere."

Scarlett paused, biting her lip again before she nodded. "Um, okay, well… I guess it started last weekend, like… I just, erm… I over'eard something my Dad said to Alex, and it just sort of shook me and made me sort of see things like I hadn't seen 'em before… I thought I really hated my Dad fer what he did to me – fer abandoning me and acting like 'e didn't care about me or Mam. And I was already starting to think that maybe he really 'as been guilty about it fer as long as I've been upset about it, but yeah, this just kind of made me think that maybe everything was gonna be okay eventually and maybe I could somehow reach a point where I could forgive him, but I don't know an'… Yeah. I don't know."

She looked down, tugging at the dry skin around the nail on her left thumb. Then she glanced up, swallowing nervously. "I just… I've never even thought that before, yer know? That I might be able to forgive 'im. I just sort of always knew I couldn't, not ever, and now maybe… I dunno."

"So…you're still angry at your Dad? And you're still hurting over what he did. I can see that. But now you think that…there may be a way to eventually move on from the place you're in now?"

Again, Scarlett paused, considering, and then nodded. Her sad eyes remained focused on her hands. "It's like…before, when I used to look at 'im or think about 'im, I just felt this dull _emptiness_ inside, like there was just nothing there, yer know? And that nothingness hurt. But now, when I look at 'im, there's still that emptiness, but it's not as…deep, as before?" She shook her head to herself. "I don't think tha' even makes sense, but…yeah. I feel this sort of swirl of emotions that I didn't have before – like it used to be black and white and now it's all a mixture."

"I understand what you mean, Scarlett, don't worry. You're making perfect sense." Dr Wright smiled reassuringly and took down a few more notes. When he was done, he looked back up, his gaze level.

"Now, don't feel you have to tell me, because I completely understand if you'd rather keep it private. Everything you say in these sessions should be said because you _want_ to. But might I ask what it was you overhead to make you feel like this?"

"Oh, um…yeah…err…" Scarlett glanced up, found that she still couldn't really make eye-contact, looked down again, back up once more, and finally settled her gaze on the picture of the field with the flowers and the sunshine. She didn't know why she found it so hard to look at Dr Wright properly. Perhaps it was because if she could see him, there was no arguing with the fact that he was there. Another human being, listening to her innermost thoughts. It made her feel pathetic again. Self-conscious, almost.

"Err… it was night-time and Dad was talking to Alex in the kitchen… They were talking about me, and at first I couldn't really hear them because Alex was talking and her voice was really quiet, but she sounded kind of…sad, I think, so I moved further down the stairs to 'ear, and then I heard Dad say… He, err…" She paused and her gaze flickered to the man sat across from her as she swallowed.

Dr Wright gave her another small, reassuring smile, the gesture softening the professional mask on his face. "Don't worry, Scarlett. Take your time."

Scarlett nodded, and took a deep breath. "He… He said 'e wouldn't give up on me again. But… I dunno, he said it differently to that; it was more…powerful, like…like 'e really really meant it." And then, a very small smile, so tiny that it would have gone unnoticed if Dr Wright hadn't been watching her carefully, gently touched her lips. Her gaze moved to meet his just briefly.

"He said he wouldn't give up on me again. Not ever."

"And…" Dr Wright paused, allowing time for the words to sink in for both of them. "And you felt, perhaps for the first time, that you believed him?"

There was a long silent pause. Scarlett looked back at the painting again, and then down at her knees. She was chewing her lip, the thoughts shifting around painfully in her head before she finally nodded, very subtly.

"Yeah," she said quietly, and her voice was missing its usual brittle quality. "I think so." Then she looked up, and there was a small hint of something akin to desperate hope in her eyes. "And that's good, isn't it? It's progress, I mean. From before. I'm not that fucked up, am I?"

Dr Wright just shook his head, smiling at her. "It is progress, Scarlett. Definitely. And no. You're not 'fucked up', as you put it, at all."

"I feel it… a lot of the time."

"You won't. Not forever. Again, that's what I'm here to help with."

Smiling that very nearly not-there smile once more, Scarlett nodded.

"There are more things that make me feel so mixed up about everything," she said after a little while, glancing up. "We're meant to be going t' look at schools on Monday…the place I used to go to in Manchester 'as even sent my records down, all ready t' be transferred… An' at first, the other week, when Dad mentioned it t' me, and when Alex asked what my favourite subject was… I think she was just trying t' make conversation, but… It made me angry. I didn't want t' go to school 'ere, because that meant I was staying, with Dad, and… I just. Yer know. I didn't want to and just the thought of starting again made me feel sick and like I wanted t' break something…"

"And now?"

"And now…" She sighed, almost thoughtful in the way she expelled the tired breath from her lungs. "Now I guess I don't mind. Like… I am dreading it, because I don't really like school much anyway though I know it's important an' all that now. And I don't want t' be the new girl and 'ave people asking me questions all the time for my first few weeks and the teachers hating me because they'll 'ave seen my records and know I used to skive off a lot and cause trouble… But…I guess at the same time I'm sort of looking forward to it a little bit, because it's part of this whole starting over again thing, isn't it? Maybe if I try an' do it right this time, like keep my 'ead down and not stir up trouble just fer the sake of it, just so Mam would pay me some attention… It might be alright? I dunno."

Dr Wright had been scribbling in his notepad the entire time she had been talking, so she waited for a while, just listening to the familiar sound of pen on paper, until he looked up. As soon as he did she glanced down again, nervous. The words had all just spilled from her mouth in a torrent, and even now she wasn't quite sure what she had said. But when the doctor spoke, his voice was gentle as always.

"Scarlett, don't look so worried. I know you feel really torn up and still angry at the moment, confused about things, and just being confused is making you more confused. It's hard when you go from having a very black and white view of the world to having a more open, grey one. But just the fact that you're starting to allow yourself the possibility of making an effort to start things over again is absolutely incredible. I've known teenagers much more unpleasant and much more stubborn over the wrong things than you. You _want_ to change, even if you don't know it yet. And you're right. That is excellent progress."

Scarlett paused, and then said in an offhand voice, though the grudging acceptance and humour was poorly disguised beneath it: "Well… I 'ope so. Dad an' Alex haven't said anything, but I know the rates you charge are bleedin' extortionate. Don't want t' be doing this fer years."

Dr Wright just smiled, shaking his head as he jotted down a few more notes. At the bottom of his review of the session, it just said, in proper language and not in short hand this time:

_With time, she is going be absolutely fine. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>I'm sorry this chapter hasn't involved any Gene or Alex, but I just felt it was important to really show how Scarlett is getting on, and how her attitude to everything is sort of evolving. I hope it's all okay, and please let me know if you think anything needs changingimproving as always. Thank you for reading. **_

_**Eleantris. :)**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Hello once more, I'm back from my adventures in NaNoWriMo land! Just a quick thank you to all of you for being so patient during this last month – I got lots of lovely messages from you on Tumblr asking when I was going to update and saying you loved the story, and your words honestly made me so happy. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**_

_**Eleantris :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes…sucks to be me. :P**_

_**Chapter 23**_

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><p>"Oi, Chris, yer twonk." Ray lobbed a screwed up ball of paper at Chris to catch his attention. Once he had it, he nodded furtively towards the double doors into CID, which were still swinging slightly in their frame from where Alex had just walked out, taking her leave for the rest of the day. She had come in for a few hours to check how they were all doing with wrapping up their latest case, but had then announced that she'd booked the rest of the day off.<p>

"What?" Chris shot back in a hushed whisper, looking from the doors to Ray. He scooted his chair across closer. "Why are we whispering?"

Shrugging, Ray plucked a cigarette out from his packet and lit up before replying. "Dunno, I just… Do you get the feeling that something…_funny_ is going on with the Guv and Drake?"

A frown inflected Chris' all too often confused expression. "Funny? Like…what do you mean?"

"Well…Yer know… Not normal, is it?"

"What?"

Ray let out a long sigh, exhaling a grey tunnel of smoke as he did so. He leant back in his chair, a disgruntled expression on his face. The chair creaked under his weight. "Well, she seems t' be investing a lot of time in helping the Guv out with Scarlett, I mean… I can't remember the last time she joined us in Luigi's, and she's started turning up in a cab now each morning, and getting one at the end of the day an' all, have you noticed?"

Chris, of course, had not noticed, and said as much.

"Twonk," Ray scoffed, but continued, pushing his cigarette packet and lighter towards Chris. "I think she's staying with 'im, and it's all a bit…_domestic_, don't you think? I can understand 'er wanting to help him – she's a busy-bodying know-it-all and I reckon the Guv couldn't turn 'er down, but… living with 'em? That's something else."

The frown on Chris' brow deepened a little as he took a slow drag on his cigarette, thinking deeply. He looked up to meet his friend's gaze, still confused. "Yer not saying… Mate, do you mean that you think they're… Y'know… Having it off?"

Ray rolled his eyes and gave a huge shrug. He tapped some ash off into a side plate he'd been eating biscuits off earlier, not catching Shaz's scowl of disapproval from over by the filing cabinet. "That's exactly what I think, Chris!"

Chris immediately recoiled in disgust, shaking his head, expression a little screwed up, looking for all intents and purposes like a little boy who had just learned where babies really come from. "The Guv and DI Drake?! I don't think so, Ray… I mean, I know the Guv fancies 'er and all, but loads of blokes do, and he wouldn't ever…Y'know… And I don't think she'd ever…y'know…be up for it…"

"How do yer mean?"

"Well, she's, err… Well she's all posh, isn't she?"

Ray didn't look convinced, and stubbed out the burning remains of his cigarette on the edge of his desk. "Well, how do you explain the cabs and the staying with 'em, and the time off? And 'ave you seen the way she keeps smiling fer no apparent reason when she thinks no-one is looking? "

Chris didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

><p>Gene's eyes scanned the large, towering red brick building before him with the customary pout resting on his lips. A concrete playground sprawled for yards before the main front doors, the car park round the side next to the extensive playing fields, and the windows visible on the front of the building were old-fashioned – Georgian, if Alex remembered correctly. A large sign was attached to the archway above the wrought-iron gates, emblazoned proudly with the words '<em>St. Peter's Catholic High School'<em>. It wasn't a private institution, but part funded by the state, and partly by the church.

"Looks alright," Gene said with a sniff, not wanting to make any clear judgments until they were inside. He looked to Alex. "Better than that shithole we visited this morning, at any rate."

"I told you that place wouldn't be right, Gene. I would know."

The unspoken word was understood between them – _Molly_ – and Gene knew better than to bring up now what it was that must have happened to her. Alex was glad. The fact that she was having to accept now that she might never see Molly again, and that they were now visiting a school she would attend decades into the future – a future she could not continue to share with her daughter - hurt badly enough. To be forced into a position where she would have to make up some kind of cover story – that Molly had been taken away from her, or that she had died… The pain of that would be too much to bear.

"Right, well, we better get inside then," Gene said, trying to sound positive. He glanced at Scarlett, who glanced back at him.

"Let's just get on with it," she muttered, more to the ground than to her Dad or Alex. But in the pockets of her leather jacket, her nails were scratching against the dry skin around her nails – a nervous habit she'd had since before she could remember – as they made their way towards the main school building.

* * *

><p>They were greeted in reception by a prim, thin lady in a grey skirt suit who Alex was shocked to realise she recognised. The Mrs Grantham she knew from Molly's parents' evenings was much older – a little saggier around the middle and around the jawline, and with elegant grey streaks in her hair – but it was her all the same.<p>

"Hello, I'm Miss Ingram. I'm one of the assistant heads here at St. Peter's," she said, smiling warmly and holding out a hand to shake Gene's. Alex noticed the glint of a diamond on her left hand and smiled. So not _quite_ Mrs Grantham just yet then.

"Afternoon," Gene replied, a little gruffly, and drew back his hand.

"It's Mr Hunt, isn't it?" She then turned sharp grey eyes on Alex. "And you must be Mrs Hunt," she added, holding a hand out to shake Alex's too. "Pleasure to meet you."

Alex immediately flushed red; the violent shake of her head was an impulse reaction. She suddenly didn't quite know where to look.

"Oh – Oh, no, I'm not – I mean… We, ah… We're not together. I'm just a friend. Here to help. Please, call me Alex." She smiled, but feared the expression had come out more like her most clownish grin.

She daren't risk a sideways glance at Gene, even as he managed to ask Miss Ingram to call him Gene without allowing a trace of the shock in his system to be audible in his voice, but Alex caught the curl of Scarlett's lips out of the corner of her eye, forming something halfway between a smirk and a snigger.

She decided to settle on glancing around the reception area for a moment, taking in the light green walls, the grey linoleum floor and brown pin board loaded with school announcements and notices.

"And you must be Scarlett, I presume?" Miss Ingram said, turning to Scarlett with a warm smile.

Next to her, Alex _felt_, rather than saw Gene tense as he watched the short exchange.

"Oh, yeah… Hi," Scarlett said, as politely as possible, as she briefly shook Miss Ingram's hand.

"Wonderful." Miss Ingram smiled at them all. "Now if you'd like to come this way and meet our Headmaster, Mr Harrow – he'll tell you all about what things are like here, and you can put any questions to him – and then I'll be happy to give you a tour of the school."

With another smile, she turned and led them down a long corridor, the walls lined with lockers and colourful flyers for some kind of charity event apparently being run by the sixth form. Gene chanced a glance at Scarlett as they walked, and felt a subtle relief coursing through him when he could see no trace of a scowl on her face. She was looking up at the ceiling, and then turning her head to glance through the windows in classroom doors as they passed. Her expression was unreadable, but at least it wasn't repulsed.

As they were told to wait for a minute outside, Gene felt a hand come to rest on his arm, just above his wrist, and he turned to see Alex smiling softly at him.

"Relax, Gene," she whispered gently, closing her fingers just briefly around his arm in a comforting squeeze. A familiar sort of sparkle came into her eyes as she smiled at him. "You're not here to be caned and sat with the Dunce hat on in the naughty corner."

"Careful, Bols," Gene murmured back, voice too low for anyone but her to hear, "That sounds like a whole other kind of punishment when you're saying it."

She instantly snatched back her hand, trying to look annoyed, but it seemed her features were no longer capable of arranging themselves into an expression that looked even remotely irritated when it came to him these days. "You're incorrigible."

"Do excuse me whilst I don't bother to look that one up in the dictionary, Bolly."

Alex let out a small huff of laughter at that, and shook her head slightly to herself. When she looked up though, Gene's gaze was still fixed on her face, soft but intent.

"Thank you, anyway, Bols," he said quietly.

"For what?"

"Relaxing me."

"Oh." She smiled. "Any time."

At that moment, the door to their right swung open, and a tall man appeared in the doorway – the same height as Gene, but a little younger, perhaps, Alex thought, with dark hair and the kind of face that looked as though it had been steadily increasing in its appeal as he grew older. His were the sort of features a man grows into, and as it was, Alex couldn't help but think that if things were different – if it were still 2008, if she was who she had once been, and if it weren't for the man stood beside her, his arm almost brushing hers, then she might have been attracted to him.

"Mr Hunt, and…Mrs Hunt, I presume?" he said brightly, moving forward to extend his hand just as Miss Ingram had done.

Flushing again, Alex quickly opened her mouth to correct him, but Gene got there first, grasping the slightly younger man's hand and shaking it.

"Gene, please," he said. And then, to Alex's amazement, he moved his hand to the middle of her back, drawing her a tiny bit closer. She almost felt her heart judder in her chest for a moment. "This is Alex."

"Lovely to meet you, Alex," said Mr Harrow, a courteous smile stretching across handsome features.

"You too," she replied, just managing to force out the words without them sounding too faint. She felt Gene's hand shift slightly on her back, moving closer to her waist, a spark of ice cold adrenaline shot down her spine.

And without noticing anything amiss in the slightly wide-eyed, questioning glare that Alex shot Gene, Mr Harrow turned to address Scarlett, who had been watching the exchange with the same half-smirk, half-snigger lingering on her face.

"So you must be Scarlett. How do you do?"

Again, Scarlett politely shook his hand, but avoided eye contact. She seemed to be staring at some midpoint between empty air and his tie, and she only flicked her eyes up to his face briefly. "Hello."

But Alex couldn't really pay close attention to anything that was happening, because Gene's hand was still resting lightly, yet firmly on her back, and she was sure that if he had wrapped his arm tightly around her waist the contact between them couldn't have felt more electrically intimate. What was he doing?

She tried to shoot him a glare again, narrowing her brow over her eyes in question. But Gene just slightly raised both eyebrows at her in reply, his lips very almost smirking.

"Please, come in," Mr Harrow's clean-cut, low voice sliced through Alex's scattered wonderings, and just like that, Gene's hand fell away from her back, and he stood back to allow her and Scarlett to enter the office before him. Charade over.

She felt oddly bereft as she made her way further into the office, as though there was a chilled part of her skin that was missing some kind of covering, as though his touch had burnt through the jacket and blouse she was wearing. She sank into her seat before the headmaster's desk with some relief and glanced around, taking in the familiar layout of the room, the expensive furnishings and large timetable tacked onto the wall across from the desk. Not much would change between now and when Molly would attend here, clearly. She was hit by the ghost of another memory – of a different headmaster following her into the room, of a fidgety, nervous Molly at her side, of the names of three bullies clutched on a piece of paper in her hand. Who was there to protect her from them now?

She couldn't help but chance another questioning glance at Gene as Mr Harrow took his seat in the plush leather chair on his side of the desk, and she was about to ask what on Earth he had been playing at in a hushed whisper, when Mr Harrow cleared his throat.

"So, would you like me to tell you a little about the student side of things here at St. Peter's – the sort of classes Scarlett would be in and the extra-curricular things she can take part in – or would you like me to start with the more parent-staff orientated information – how we deal with discipline, how we coordinate things, and so on?"

* * *

><p>Alex sat throughout the entire meeting in a strange kind of daze. She tried hard to concentrate on what was being said, made sure she nodded and commented in the appropriate places, asking questions when she needed to, or adding to Gene's comments, but inside, she felt adrift. Her mind had detached itself from her body and was floating somewhere far away – somewhere grey, where nothing was certain.<p>

Why hadn't Gene corrected Mr Harrow when he had assumed, as Miss Ingram had, that they were together? And that was a curious thing. Why did everyone seem to assume that she and Gene were a couple? Was it that obvious? Could they see something of the truth in her eyes when she looked at him, or spoke to him – was it her body language that gave her away?

And then a deep, cold panic set in. Could _Gene_ tell?

There must be something about the way they interacted with each other, the way they simply were with each other, that suggested to other people that they were a couple. A married one, at that. And it couldn't be him; he had given no sign, no suggestion… There was the usual flirting and the usual inappropriate comments, and the friendship between them had been stronger these last few weeks that it had ever been, but that was all. They were the Guv and Bolly, just as they always had been to him. And so it must be her that was putting across that impression, without even knowing it.

Her heart felt torn, and she was sure it must have been beating too loudly in her chest as she stared absently at the edge of the desk in front of her, no longer hearing the words being said anymore. Why hadn't Gene corrected him? _Why_?

She had no answer.

* * *

><p>After an hour had passed, and Gene had asked every single pertinent question he could think of to ask, he, Alex and Scarlett made their way out of the headmaster's office to be shown around the school by a waiting Miss Ingram.<p>

Alex was strangely silent for the first ten minutes of the tour, and Gene glanced at her curiously more than once as they were shown an English classroom, the year eleven lockers, the main PE corridor. She seemed distant, her lips set in a straight line – not pleased, but not angry either. He felt a distinct feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He knew what this was about, but surely… He shook his head. Even he couldn't explain the reasons for his actions; how could he explain them to her?

The ice broke when Miss Ingram led Scarlett through a narrow doorway to see one of the art rooms, and Alex jerked out an arm, pulling him to a stop. She rounded on him, and Gene had the good grace to both look and feel a little terrified upon receiving the full ferocity of her glare.

"What was all that about?!" she hissed, glancing sideways to check Miss Ingram and Scarlett hadn't paused to wait for them.

"What was what about, Bols?" Gene asked lightly, moving through the door into the art room as if to escape her.

"You bloody well know what," Alex muttered behind him, and he didn't have to be able to see her face to know she was angry.

"I'm sorry, Bols," he murmured as they moved closer to where Scarlett was examining an example student's work, her head bent interestedly over the page. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

Alex could only glare at him, but inside, she could feel her stomach churning with emotions she couldn't even define. If this was just a game to him – something to get amusement from… She wasn't sure she could bear it. Wasn't sure how much longer she could bear _him_ – his not knowing, his carrying on as usual, like he didn't _know_ she loved him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Dun, dun, dun! So things are looking a little more eventful on the Galex front…and don't worry, both Gene and Alex will have more to say on the 'not correcting Mr Harrow' front. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll do my best to update soon! :D<strong>_

_**Eleantris :)**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Good evening, imaginary constructs! I hope this update finds you well. :) Thank you very much for your reviews as always, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter… I have a feeling you might. But no skipping to the end now! That's not allowed. It's like opening your presents before Christmas Day –ruins everything. :P**_

_**Eleantris :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. If I did, it'd be on its tenth series or something by now. :D**_

_**Chapter 24**_

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><p>"So…err… What did yer think of St. Peter's then, Scarlett?" Gene asked over dinner that night, pausing with his knife and fork in his hands.<p>

There was a short interval of silence, and Alex glanced up only once before returning her gaze to her plate, deciding to sit back and let Gene and Scarlett have the conversation between themselves. Gene had somehow very expertly managed to avoid being alone with her ever since they had arrived back from the school, and she was beginning to feel a build-up of words and questions brimming in her mind. The French had a phrase for that, she mused – the feeling you get after a conversation where you think of all the things you would have liked to say. _L'esprit de l'escalier. _

It wasn't so much the omission of their not being married, or even together, to Mr Harrow that even bothered her particularly. It was Gene's whole demeanour towards her throughout the day. In many ways, it reminded her of the weeks back when she had first arrived in this world, when he had flirted overtly with her, before things had changed and evolved between them, and before both had become aware of what was at stake. Everything was so much more complex now.

But today, Gene's eyes had possessed an unmistakeable glint when he glanced at her occasionally – on his lips had rested a familiar, teasing smirk. For some reason, it made Alex feel uneasy, almost as though the new, more serious level to their friendship had been newly abandoned. She was past the point of flirting and teasing now; it was killing her inside to know that he probably only saw her as a light flirtation – a good friend and something nice to look at to boot – whilst all the time, her heart was bleeding to touch him, to confess everything, to kiss those moodily pouting lips and smooth away the worry that so often creased his brow when it came to his daughter.

"Um, yeah… It was alright," Scarlett said after pausing, pushing the food around on her plate to avoid looking up at her Dad.

"Alright?" Gene pushed. "Any other thoughts? Because you 'ated the first one."

She flicked her gaze up to look at him. "So did you."

"Yes, because it was a shithole."

"_Gene_," Alex hissed, kicking him under the table, but not hard enough to hurt him. Scarlett just rolled her eyes and continued.

"Well, yeah… I guess St. Peter's was better. Bit posh though, wasn't it?"

"Not really. Unless by posh yer mean of a good standard…" Gene seemed to be teetering on the edge of saying more, and Alex watched discreetly as he seemed to open his mouth slightly and close it again a few times. Eventually, he rested his fork down on the edge of his plate and looked up at Scarlett properly. "I do want you to 'ave a good education, Scarlett… It's important t' me, whether you believe that or not."

For a few more moments, there was silence. It was quiet enough that Alex heard Scarlett swallow when she glanced up at her Dad, indecision over some kind of internal conflict inflecting her expression.

"I…uh… I know, Dad," she replied after a short while, ducking her head over her dinner, almost in embarrassment.

Nodding, because he didn't really know what more to say, Gene continued eating, and for a few more minutes, only the sound of cutlery clinking against china and chewing could be heard, before Scarlett said, almost hesitantly:

"I liked their art department… They 'ad a lot of materials an' stuff that they didn't 'ave at my old school. And the course looked good too, I guess…More interesting an' all that." She chewed and swallowed some peas quickly. "Uniform was 'orrible though."

"Well I 'ardly think the uniform matters, if yer like the school on the whole," Gene replied, giving her a very small, slight smile as he reached for the salt.

"Hm…" Scarlett seemed to consider for a moment. "Suppose so. Yeah, whatever… School's a school, and I probably should start soon, like… I don't want t' get really behind an' have everyone thinking I'm a complete idiot…"

At this admission, Alex caught what was possibly the first rare, genuine smile she had seen appear on Gene's face in a long time, and she felt a weird kind of swoop go through her.

"Right," Gene said, seemingly trying but failing to disguise the note of surprised brightness in his voice. "Well I'll ring 'em up tomorrow then if that's alright, accept their offer of a place?"

"Yeah," Scarlett said, shrugging nonchalantly as she pushed more of her shepherd's pie around her plate, searching for a cheesy bit of mashed potato. "Whatever."

Just briefly, Gene's eyes met Alex's, and she gave him a small, encouraging smile. She tried to ignore the strange tension in her stomach, the burning desperation to bring up the 'Mrs Hunt' incident again, and went back to finishing her dinner.

At least Scarlett was making progress, she thought. That was the main thing – that was what she was here for - to help, and to support Gene in fulfilling a role he knew little of and that she knew well. She just had to keep telling herself that. She was his friend, and friends didn't get hung up over silly things that the other person didn't care about.

But, a small, treacherous voice whispered, friends didn't allow others to assume they were _married_ either.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, once Scarlett had sloped off to bed, Gene dropped down onto the sofa, a bottle of beer in one hand, his eyes watching Alex as she stood in front of the narrow bookcase in the corner, no doubt scrutinising his collection. His gaze dipped down as it frequently did to admire her arse for just a split second, and he thought for the thousandth time just how much he loved those skin-tight jeans on her.<p>

He cleared his throat. "What are yer looking for, Bols?"

She responded without turning around. "Have you read all of these? I never had you pegged for a great reader…"

The usual, grumpy pout found its way onto Gene's lips, though she wasn't looking to see it. "You don't have me pegged fer a lot of things probably."

She glanced over her shoulder at him then, regarding him thoughtfully for a moment. It occurred to Gene that she seemed distant – adrift almost, as though there was something happening in her head separate to what was actually occurring around her. But then what did he know about women? Not a lot, he didn't think, for all his boasts that he did. He knew she had been wanting to bring up what had happened with Mr Harrow again, but there was no way he was letting her go there again, especially not with Scarlett around to hear. Because if he was honest – one hundred percent, truly honest with himself, he had no idea why he had done it. It had just…felt right, in that moment, to act as though she was his, and he was hers, and make it clear that the headmaster before him did not stand a chance.

After a short, silent pause, Alex said softly, "I don't think you're thick, Gene, if that's what you mean."

"Well yer won't find any bleedin' Shakespeare on there," he said, nodding to the bookshelf. "That's all I'm saying."

She turned back around, and then pulled out one tome. The binding looked a little worse for wear, and the pages were browning at the edges. "You do have the Romantic poets though," she turned and held up the poetry anthology, raising both eyebrows as a surprised smile tugged on her lips.

"Jesus," Gene said, getting up. "I've 'ad that since 'igh school. Had to write about 'em for my exam."

Grinning, Alex balanced the book in one hand and carefully leafed through it, deft fingers turning each fragile page. "Which one's your favourite?" she asked, glancing up at him with a smile. Who would have thought it – Gene Hunt with an anthology of the Romantic poets?

"Don't 'ave one," was all he grunted in reply.

"Oh you must have one." She was looking at him directly now, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she waited.

Gene looked back at her, at the reflection of the lamplight in her eyes, turning their usual shade of hazel to molten amber, at the way her hair gently brushed her cheeks on both sides and at the tempting curve of her lips. He gave in with a sigh.

"I remember liking _Several Questions Answered_," he finally said, albeit very grudgingly, and his gaze immediately dipped to the carpet the way Scarlett's did whenever she said something almost out of character. "S'by William Blake I think… it's the only one I can remember, at any rate, Bols."

Smiling widely now, Alex looked the poem up in the index at the back and then carefully turned to it. "I remember studying this one too," she told him, glancing up from the delicate page and small, old-style print that was more grey than black. "I always loved the last stanza."

Gene just seemed to shuffle his feet, a little embarrassed. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd be having a conversation about poetry with Alex Drake in his living room. He didn't know if this constituted some strange daydream or a nightmare.

Her voice as she read out the final stanza was almost melodious – it had a dreamy quality to it, a gentleness that he'd never heard in her speech before.

"_He who binds to himself a joy  
>Doth the winged life destroy;<br>But he who kisses the joy as it flies  
>Lives in eternity's sunrise.<em>"

Alex looked up, smile aglow as she met his gaze. Gene just shuffled his feet a little more, pouting dispassionately in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat a little. "Was something like that, Bols, yeah… Recited it all to a girl named Susie Greene once." He brought his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it slightly without noticing he was doing it as he leant against the wall, facing Alex. "Don't think she really understood what it meant, don't think I did either at the time, but she let me get my 'and under her blouse afterwards."

Alex rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh too at the smug, schoolboy grin that stretched across Gene's face. It struck her in that moment just how handsome he must have been back in those days, not that he was at all unattractive now. But in that grin she could see the remaining glimmer of boyhood charm and good looks that must have been devastating just a few decades ago.

"Charming," she said, pursing her lips against a smile as she gently closed the book in her hands, but didn't put it down. "You must have had all the girls after you."

"I did!" Gene replied, a little indignant at her sarcasm. He raised a lazy, suggestive eyebrow and smirked. "They couldn't get enough of me, Bols."

"Hm." Alex did her best to look doubtful. "I'm sure."

"And what about you, Bolly?" he asked, with a teasing smirk. "Bet you 'ad all the boys after you."

She laughed at that, shaking her head, but Gene caught the faintest spark of something else in her eyes as she did so – something darker, a flash of defence. "I wouldn't say that exactly."

"What would yer say then?"

Alex merely looked at him levelly. "You don't want to know, Mr Hunt."

"Oh well now I definitely do," Gene said, his voice almost a murmur as he drew closer to her. "Tell me more."

Indecision seemed to linger on Alex's face, and Gene knew it wasn't just a trick of the dim lighting that caused him to catch the shadow cross the pupils of her eyes again and fade into her irises. She sighed after a moment. "I didn't _do_ romance in my teenage years. No poetry for me. Hell, sometimes not even a kiss before…"

Something in her tone of voice caused Gene to narrow his eyes slightly. "Before what, Bols?"

She sighed again. "I've already told you how my parents died when I was little, in a - a car crash… And well, basically, when I got to around the age of…fifteen, I think it was… It wasn't exactly 'romance' I had in mind. It was more a game of how many people did I have to sleep with before I really managed to piss my godfather off. I thought it was fun – rebellious. It wasn't. It was just reckless, really."

Her tone as she spoke was laced with shame, and she couldn't even meet his gaze. A watery glaze hid the expression in her eyes from him, and she turned slightly away, swallowing.

"So you see," she said, with a shaky, hollow laugh, "you weren't really that far off about me when we first met. I really was just your regular whore once." She glanced back at him, and Gene felt his heart wrench painfully in his chest, an ache starting beneath his ribcage when he noticed a tiny tear dropping slowly from the end of her eyelashes. He moved forward to gently take the book of poems from between her fingers, and she laughed again. It sounded just as empty, if not emptier. A sob would have conveyed less pain.

"I bet you wouldn't have touched me with a barge pole."

It had meant to come out as a joke, a light-hearted comment to chase away the tears that were rising in her eyes. She couldn't stop them. But her voice was too quiet, too soft and too scared, and she ended up just sounding impossibly sad – almost regretful.

Silently, Gene reached up to cup her face in his hands, rough fingertips resting gently against her temples, feeling the subtle pulse there beat quietly beneath his own. His gaze met hers, sinking blue into hazel, and she seemed to hold her lips tight together as though to stop them from trembling. All the while her gaze searched his, wide and fearful, as though looking for a way to erase it all.

"Don't be ridiculous, Alex," he murmured, and she could smell the familiar warmth of his breath now – a strangely pleasant combination of beer, cigarettes and mint. "Wouldn't so much as thought about what Susie Greene 'ad under her blouse if I'd known you then. Bet you were gorgeous."

She smiled very weakly, though the action just seemed to cause more tears to fall and trickle down her face. He moved to catch them with his thumb, paying reverent attention to each one. "I was a mess," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. "I still am."

"No," Gene whispered, voice low and almost hoarse. He moved closer, cradling her face fully in his hands now as he caught her gaze and held her in place, hypnotised. "No yer not, Bols."

He touched the corner of her mouth very lightly with his thumb, and she couldn't breathe. The blood in her veins seemed to move in slow motion, stopping the pulse of her heart.

"And I don't even care if you were then. I care about now, and right now, you are so beautiful."

He dipped his head, gaze still holding hers captive, and kissed her gently.

* * *

><p><em><strong>And that, my dear darling readers, is all you will be getting for this chapter. ;) I hope you liked it, and just in case I don't get chance to update again before Christmas, which I might not, I hope you all have a lovely few days or weeks, depending on how much time you have off, and Merry Christmas to all of you! :) <strong>_

_**Eleantris :)**_

_**P.S – The poem I mentioned here, 'Several Questions Answered' by William Blake, is one I discovered only today, and already it's one of my all-time favourites from the romantic period, and I really do recommend you go read the whole thing! It's only short, and it does remind me of Galex in a lot of ways. :P**_


	25. Chapter 25

_**Well, um… hello again, old friends. :) I'm so sorry that this chapter has taken so long to get to you. I will completely understand if you've all given up on this story and can't be bothered to read anymore, and I won't go into details of why I've been busy and stuff that's going on, etc, etc, because it'll just bore you. I've put my HP story on hold now though, because I sort of came to the decision that I only had time to update one story semi-regularly and I chose this one, so yeah… Anyway, I'm going to shut up and let you read the chapter, since it's taken so long to be posted! I hope to get back into updating around once every two weeks-ish with any luck, but you're going to have to bear with me. I hope you like the chapter anyway. You might want to go and reread the last one or the last few to refresh yourself. **_

_**Eleantris :)**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes. Hell, I probably don't even deserve the rights to this story, especially considering that cliff-hanger I left you all on for months. :/**_

_**Chapter 25**_

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><p>The sheets were warm around Alex's body as she snuggled down more comfortably, a smile lazily curving her lips. Sunlight caressed every open space and every crevice of the lounge, bathing her and Gene in molten gold. She could feel that sunlight on her skin and beneath it, running through her veins and in her smile. It was a warmth she had never felt before, a feeling of elated, blissful security that she had never experienced.<p>

She watched him sleep, observed the sun's caress of his long eyelashes, the way it picked out the tiny scar she had discovered on his neck, just below his left ear, and how it threaded in his hair, creating a lion's mane if she ever saw one. Beneath the covers, her legs were entangled with his, and she couldn't bring herself to care that her left ankle felt dead. She wondered briefly how they had come to be that way, before realising she couldn't bring herself to care about that either.

Almost reverently, she moved a hand to lightly sweep his hair away from his face, her fingers deft and light in the morning sun. She smiled softly.

"I wish I had known you then," she whispered, fingertips still resting at his temple where she had moved his hair. "Everything would have been different. I would have felt…safe."

Under her touch, or at the sound of her voice, she wasn't sure, Gene stirred, his eyes struggling open and blinking into the sunlight for a moment.

"Mhm?"

Smiling, she shifted to press her lips to his forehead, lingering there just long enough to breathe in the comforting scent of soap and the aftershave she was sure he probably hadn't changed since 1971 before drawing back again.

"Good morning."

He seemed to be able to do nothing but stare at her, slightly in awe, until he finally murmured, stunned, "Morning, Bols."

Shifting to face her, Gene moved to press his lips to Alex's again, drinking in the at once familiar yet still unfamiliar taste of her. She kissed him back, moaning quietly as his tongue probed at her lower lip. So it hadn't been a dream.

"Well…err…this is new," he said, voice slightly gruff from the hoarseness of his throat, which even now was flaring, in need of his usual morning cigarette. He flicked his gaze down to their still dressed state to qualify what he meant.

At first, Alex only hummed in reply, too preoccupied with kissing him again to form a coherent reply. "You know I never had you pegged for a _cuddler_, Gene."

"Shut up, yer mare. We weren't _cuddling_." Gene sat up, reluctantly withdrawing from the warmth of her body against his.

Remaining where she was, Alex just looked up at him with a lazy smirk on her face. If that was how she looked now, Gene wondered what she'd look like if they actually… He cut the thought off suddenly, a strange feeling of embarrassment coming over him. It was only subtle, and he didn't understand where it had come from. Yet it was there nonetheless. This – this taking something slow thing – was new territory for him.

"You'll find we were. We certainly weren't doing anything else," Alex pointed out, still smirking as she sat up, looking about the living room. Her empty wine glass and his beer bottle were still on the coffee table, and she wondered if Scarlett had noticed that her Dad hadn't made it upstairs to bed last night. She hoped not. She didn't want Scarlett to assume…

Gene's question interrupted her thoughts. "And whose decision was that, Bolly?"

She looked surprised, and then narrowed her eyes at him. "Both of ours, I thought. Unless you were just being a 'gentleman' and now you're going to label me as some frigid cow?"

"Alright, Bols. Calm down." Gene rushed to bring his hands up defensively. "I didn't mean – I was only yanking yer chain. We couldn't, not with…" His voice trailed off, and his gaze trailed up to the ceiling.

"I just didn't think it was appropriate, that's all…" Alex said quietly, looking down, feeling the beginnings of awkwardness setting in.

A moment later, she felt a warm palm under her chin and gentle fingers along the length of her jaw line. He drew her gaze up to meet his, kissing her softly.

"You were right, Bols, an' I agreed with you. Joint decision. Just don't…"

She smiled against his lips. "What?" Her eyes seemed to dance almost wickedly, gaze taunting his. "Tell the others that their Guv – the almighty, 'shag-em-and-leave-em' Gene Hunt – managed to kiss a woman, spent the night with her, but _didn't_ get in her knickers?"

"Something like that, yeah," Gene muttered, but his lips quirked into a slight, smirking smile when she laughed and kissed him again.

"I won't tell. God forbid the world finds out what a responsible and caring man you really are."

He raised an eyebrow. "Steady on, Bols. Anyone would think you were trying flatter me into bed with yer."

She slapped him on the arm for that as she scrambled to her feet, tugging her blouse straight as she glanced at the clock and hoped she would have time to change before she needed to be at the station. "Shut up."

Gene just grinned up at her, and for a moment the pure boyish joy on his face made her pause and catch her breath. She had put that grin there. Amidst weeks of torment, guilt and struggles with Scarlett, she had put a truly happy grin on Gene Hunt's face. And, she realised, feeling her own smile spreading treacherously across her face, he had put one on hers too.

* * *

><p>When Alex arrived back at Gene's that evening after finishing up a burglary case gone wrong, it was to find Gene on the phone in the kitchen and Scarlett loitering in the hallway, presumably listening in on the conversation. As Alex came through the door, she brought a finger to her lips with a quiet, careless, "<em>Shhh<em>."

Frowning, but taking her jacket off as quietly as she could, Alex moved forward to catch what Gene was saying on the phone too. Scarlett stood by the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, front teeth torturing her lower lip. Her fingers were playing with a short, almost blunt pencil and Alex noticed lead on her fingertips – so she'd been sketching again.

After listening for half a minute and discerning that Gene must be on the phone to St. Peter's about securing Scarlett a place for the start of the new term, Alex stepped back and gestured to Scarlett to follow her into the lounge. At first, the teenager shook her head, staying where she was, but when Alex stayed where she was, waiting in the entrance to the lounge, she sighed and stumped forwards. Alex pushed the door to behind them, but left it ajar a little way.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Scarlett flopped down onto the couch and for a minute just stared resolutely ahead, a pout all too similar to Gene's resting moodily on her lips. Eventually she flicked her gaze up to Alex. "They got my behaviour record from my old school up in Manchester – I heard Dad trying t' make promises that 'I'd turned over a new leaf', 'am receiving counselling', an' all that shit."

For a moment, Alex processed the words in her brain before moving to sit on the armchair by the sofa. She faced Scarlett. "And you're worried they won't want to give you a place now?"

Scarlett just shrugged. "Don't care if they give me a place or not. You asked me what was going on, so I told yer."

Alex pressed her lips together tightly, thinking for a split second. Then she said, gently, "Scarlett – "

"Alright," Scarlett snapped, gaze flaring. "So I'm a bit pissed about it, before yer start trying to psychoanalyse me. I 'ave a therapist for that, thank you very much. Don't need you to do it an' all. I just…" She started picking at the loose thread on her jeans again. "I just wonder 'ow long this is all gonna follow me around for, y'know? If they don't want me at that school then fine, their loss an' all that. Whatever. But I would've liked to… To show 'em all that not everyone who looks rotten is, or that not everyone that looks rotten stays rotten forever. I'm not the fucking devil incarnate."

"And who's this 'them' that you want to show?"

She shrugged again. "People, in general… Teachers, my Mum, you I guess… And Dad."

Alex found herself gently shaking her head, though Scarlett wasn't looking at her. Her eyes were cast firmly downwards, focusing on the rip in her jeans like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I don't think you're rotten, Scarlett," she told her quietly. "I don't think you're rotten at all. And no, you're most certainly not the devil incarnate."

With the sort of disgruntled nonchalance that only a teenager could achieve, Scarlett flicked her gaze up to meet Alex's for just a moment. "No offense an' all, but what would you know about it, or about me?"

Now it was Alex's turn to shrug. "Maybe I don't know a lot about it, or about you. But I know about me, and I know that when I was your age I did all sorts of stupid things, I got myself into messes I thought I'd never get out of, and I put my godfather through hell all because I was on some one woman wonder mission to seek revenge on the world for I don't know what. But I turned out okay, in the end."

There was silence for a long time then, the only noise the distant murmur of Gene's voice from the kitchen, still talking to Mr Harrow. After a long while, just as Alex was starting to regret saying anything at all, Scarlett looked up at her properly, a slight frown on her face, but intrigue in her eyes.

"Your…godfather?"

Alex nodded. "My parents died when I was just a child, and my godfather became my guardian. My parents' death was…messy – complicated. I won't go into it, but… I think I blamed my godfather, in some way… Well I think I blamed the world, but I pinned it mostly on him. I don't know what I thought really." She shrugged. "I was a mess."

"But you're…" Scarlett looked down and back up again, then shook her head. "I would never 'ave thought it."

"Well there you go then," Alex said simply, smiling ever so slightly at her and standing up. She glanced over towards the door. "I think your Dad's finished on the phone. Shall we go see what's going on?"

Pausing for a moment, Scarlett swallowed and then nodded, getting up too. There was something different in her eyes as she looked at Alex now – a glimmer of renewed respect, unless she was just imagining it. Either way, Alex felt like she had lifted a weight off her shoulders, and she thought that maybe Scarlett felt the same way too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Despite how long it took me to write it, I did really enjoy writing this chapter, so I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts, and I'm so sorry again. :)<strong>_

_**Eleantris :)**_


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